Presented to the
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO
LIBRARY
by the
ONTARIO LEGISLATIVE
LIBRARY
1980
ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
SOLDIERS' TALES OF THE
GREAT WAR
Each volume cr. 8vo, cloth,
3i. 6d. net.
I. WITH MY REGIMENT. By "PLA-
TOON COMMANDER."
II. DIXMUDE. The Epic of the French
Marines. Oct.-Nov. 1914. By CHARLES
LE GOFFIC. Illustrated
III. IN THE FIELD (1914-15)- The Im-
pressions of an Officer of Light Cavalry.
IV. UNCENSORED LETTERS FROM
THE DARDANELLES. Notes of a
French Army Doctor. Illustrated
V. PRISONER OF WAR. By ANDRE
WARNOD. Illustrated
VI. "CONTEMPTIBLE." By "CASU-
ALTY."
VII. ON THE ANZAC TRAIL. By
" ANZAC,"
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
21 BEDFORD STREET, W.C.
s
ON THE ANZACKrfi
TRAIL
BEING EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY
OF A NEW ZEALAND SAPPER
BY
ANZAC "
LONDON
WILLIAM HEINEM
London : William Heincmann, 1916.
TO THE MEN
BY WAY OF ADVERTISEMENT
THIS is the story of the Anzacs. It is told
by one of the New Zealanders who was with
them in Egypt, was present at the Landing,
and who did his little best to uphold the honour
of Maoriland in the long and grim Battle of
the Trenches. It is the tale of a man in the
ranks. It is told without gloss or varnish.
And it is true.
Komate ! Komate !
Kaora ! Kaora !
Komate ! Komate !
Kaora ! Kaora !
Tene Te Tonga Te,
Pohuru Uru;
Nana fe Tiki Mai,
Whaka Whiti Tera
Hupani ! Hupani ! Hupani !
Kupani fe Whiti Tera !
Which is also true.
CONTENTS
JOINING UP .
OFF
LIFE IN EGYPT
EAST AND WEST .
DAY BY DAY
"THE BATTLE OF THE STREETS"
AT GRIPS ....
THREE WEEKS
SITTING TIGHT
THE ORDER OF THE PUSH
PASS
I
28
4 3
68
98
loS
M3
174
204
CHAPTER I
JOINING UP
WHEN the Great War struck Europe I was
living with my people in Ireland. I had
served in the South African campaign, so, of
course, I realised that it was up to me to roll
up again and do my bit towards keeping the
old rag flying. It's a queer thing, but let a
man once go on the war-path and it's all the
odds to a strap ring he's off again, full cry, to
the sound of the bugle. I reckon it's in the
Britisher's blood ; he kind of imbibes it along
with his mother's milk. When all's said and
done we are a fighting breed. A sporting
crowd, too, and we tackle war much as we
would a game of football or a big round-up
in the Never-Never.
B
2 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
When England took off the gloves to Ger-
many I knew the Colonies wouldn't hang back
long. They breed men on the fringes of our
Empire. Hence I wasn't surprised when I
saw a notice in the papers calling on all New
Zealanders, or men who had seen service with
the Maorilanders in South Africa, to roll up
at the High Commissioner's office in London,
to be trained for service with the " Down
Under " contingents. Well, I had lived for
years in New Zealand, and had fought Boers
time and again side by side with New Zealand
troops, so I sent in my name right away. In
due course I received a polite letter of thanks,
and was told to turn up at the office on a
certain date, to be examined and attested. I
did so, and in company with some two hundred
other Colonials was put through the eye- sight,
hearing, and other tests, said " ninety-nine "
to the doctor's satisfaction, and was duly
passed as fit for service.
And now began a period of stress and
JOINING UP 3
strenuous life. Morning after morning we
repaired to Wandsworth Common, there to
acquaint ourselves with the intricacies of
" Right turn," " Left turn," " Form fours,"
etc., under the tutelage of certain drill-
sergeants of leathern lungs and bibulous-looking
noses. At noon we knocked off for an hour
and a half, repairing for refreshment to a house
of entertainment which stood fairly " adjacent"
to our drill ground. Here we very soon found
that our instructors' looks did not belie them.
However, we consoled ourselves with the
reflection that English beer was cheap as
drinks went, and that all things come to an
end in this world. The afternoons were
repetitions of the mornings, with the added
attraction of a largish audience composed
principally of nursemaids and infants in arms
and prams. The audience enjoyed our efforts
if we, the actors, didn't. It was thirsty work.
During this period we lived in London,
" finding " ourselves, but receiving a slight
** v '
ff !>' -
6 I
f -
4 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
increase of pay in lieu of quarters and rations.
It's a gay city is the Rio London. Our pockets
suffered, hence most of us, although we
growled on principle (being Colonials), were
secretly relieved in mind when the order came
to transfer to Salisbury Plain, there to camp
in tents until such time as huts should be
prepared for us.
I think we all enjoyed our stay on the
" Plain " a sad misnomer, by the way, as I
never ran across a hillier plain in my life. It
was autumn in England, and when w r e first
arrived, except for cold nights the weather was
really good for England ! It soon broke,
however, and we sampled to the full the joys
of sleeping on rain-soaked blankets and plough-
ing our way through the sticky chalk soil that
hereabouts is so strongly in evidence. Hence
we weren't sorry to transfer our swags to the
more kindly shelter of the huts. In fact, we
took possession of them before they were
quite ready for occupancy, electing to com-
JOINING UP 5
plete the work ourselves. Most of us were
" bush carpenters," so the job was right into
our hands.
Our camp lay within two miles of Bulford
village, a kind of Sleepy Hollow inhabited by
a bovine-looking breed, whose mouths seemed
intended for beer-drinking but not talking
which, in a way, was just as well, for when they
did make a remark it was all Greek to us.
We wakened the place up a bit, however, and
the Canadians, who settled down to the tune
of over five thousand round about us, nobly
seconded our efforts, so I reckon the power of
speech was restored to the villagers after we
left ! For all I know they may be talking yet.
Come to think it over in cold blood, they had
cause to.
Those Kanucks were a hefty lot, and blessed
with real top-knotch powers of absorption.
They were sports, too. We beat them at
Rugby football, but they took their change
back at soccer. Honours were even, I think,
6 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
at drill, but they drank our canteen dry every
night. You see, there were five thousand of
them and only a little over two hundred of us.
As they were inclined to talk a bit in their
cups we were forced to mount an armed guard
in the canteen. The guard's principal duty
was to stop scrapping on the premises, and
the first sign of " peeling " operations being
indulged in was the signal to round up the
mob. Once outside, however, they could do
as they liked. And they generally did ! Dis-
coloured optics and flattened nasal appendages
soon ceased to be objects of curiosity down
our location. On the whole we got on well
with them, and we had many things in com-
mon. Poor fellows, they got stuck into it
cruelly in France, between German gas and
overpowering numbers, but they showed real
grit right through just as we who had been
camp-mates with them knew they would.
Barring the heavy frosts, the rain, and the
foot-deep mud, things weren't so bad in camp.
JOINING UP 7
The tucker was really good and there was
plenty of it ; the huts were, on the whole,
fairly dry, although a bit draughty ; and our
kit was first-rate. We slept on the usual
" donkey's breakfast," of course, but it isn't
the worst bed to sleep on, by a long chalk.
And it felt real good to me when the " Get-
out-of-bed " bugle went every morning before
sun-up, and the Kanuck band made the camp
rounds to the tune of John Peel. How we
cursed that band !
Our daily work began with the usual before-
breakfast breather a brisk march over the
hills, a spell of physical exercise, a pipe-opening
" double," and then a free-and-easy tramp
back to camp, soap-and-water, and breakfast.
The feeds we used to take ! I reckon the
morning programme alone in the Army would
fetch a double " lunger " back from the hearse
door> if it didn't kill him outright. Dyspepsia
disappeared from our camp, while as for
stomachs, we grew to forget that such things
8 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
formed part of our interior works except
when they reminded us in unmistakable terms
that " Nature abhorred a vacuum."
The forenoon was generally spent on the
parade ground, carrying out platoon and com-
pany drill. To give the reader an idea of the
size of our fellows it is only necessay to state
that in my platoon (No. 4) there were six men
on my right and I stand over six feet in
height. I believe there was only one man in
the platoon under five feet ten. They were
not " cornstalks " either ; they carried weight
on top of their legs.
After lunch we usually went for a route-
march, a form of training which was highly
popular with all. On most days we did about
ten miles, but twice a week or so we put in
a fifteen to twenty mile stunt, cutting out
the pace at a good round bat. Considering
the state of the going (in many places the
roads were simply muddy swamps) and the
hilly nature of the country, I reckon we'd
JOINING UP 9
have given points to most fellows when it
came to hitting the wallaby. Once I re-
member taking part in a platoon marching
competition. My platoon won it by a short
neck, but we were all out. The distance was
just over eleven miles of as tough and dirty
going as they make, and when it is borne in
mind that we cut it out at an average pace
of four-and-a-half miles an hour the reader
will guess that we didn't sprout much moss
on the trail. We lost a goodish deal of sweat
that trip, but the messing contractor didn't
look like saying grace over our dinner that
night. (By the wish of the men the evening
meal was made the principal one ; it was
always a solid, hot tuck-in, and the best
preparation for a cold wintry night that I
know of.)
For recreation we had football on Saturdays
and don't look shocked, dear reader ! Sun-
days ; concerts and " smokers " on week-nights,
etc. We rigged a spare hut up as a theatre
io ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
and concert-hall, and it looked real good when
completed. The stage was elevated, and fitted
with kerosene lamps as foot and head lights ;
a nifty curtain, and the latest thing in brown-
paper pillars painted like the front of a Maori
pataka, with little Maori gods sitting on their
heels, tongues sticking out sideways, and hands
clasped on distended abdomens. The centre-
piece was the gem of the show, however; it
represented the War God, Tiki, chewing up
the German Eagle between teeth like the tusks
of an old bush wild pig. Altogether the whole
outfit had a decidedly homelike air about it
although it didn't seem to strike our English
visitors in that light. But, then, neither did
our war-cry, even when it was chanted in
their honour by two hundred healthy-lunged
New Zealanders. They did seem to appreciate
the concerts we gave, however, and, bragging
apart, we had talent enough in the mob to
make a show most anywhere. We even ran
to a trick contortionist and dancer, whose
JOINING UP ii
favourite mode of progression towards his
nightly couch was on his hands with his feet
tucked away behind his ears. Taking it all in
all, we were a very happy little colony, and
despite the mud, frost and snow, I fancy
those of us who may escape the Long Trail
will reserve a kindly spot in their hearts for
the old camp down Bulford way. But, alas !
our ranks are already sadly thinned.
As time went on our little force became
reinforced by men joining up who had come
long distances to do their bit for King and
Country. We were a peculiarly heterogeneous
crowd. There were men from South Africa,
from the Argentine, from Canada, the United
States, and even from Central America. One
at least had fought in the Spanish-American
War, and owned to being a naturalised Uncle
Sam citizen. There were quite a few who
had seen service in the late Boer War, some
who had been members of the New Zealand
contingents, others having gone through the
12 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
campaign in one or other of the South African
irregular corps. About 65 per cent, were born
Maorilanders, the remainder being mostly
" Colonials " of many years' standing. I should
think we had representatives from every corner
in New Zealand and all men in every sense
of the word. Men of whom Adam Lindsay
Gordon, the Australian stockman poet, might
have been thinking when in his " Sick Stock-
rider " he penned the following lines
" I've had my share of pastime and I've done my share of
toil :
Life is short the longest life a span;
I care not now to tarry for the corn and for the oil,
And the wine that maketh glad the heart of man.
For good undone and gifts misspent and resolutions vain
'twere somewhat late to trouble
This I know, I'd live the same life over if I had to live
again,
And the chances are I go where most men go."
And this I know : a finer lot of fellows to be
with, either in light-hearted frolic or the grim
struggle in which they were destined to take
part, I never ran across in my natural.
CHAPTER II
OFF
WE sailed from Southampton on December
12, 1914, the name of our transport being the
Dunera, an old British India Company steamer,
I believe. The Canadians were no end sorry
that they weren't going with us, and our
fellows would have liked nothing better, for
both contingents had grown to like and respect
each other. However, it wasn't to be, and
being debarred from accompanying us the
men of the Western Dominion did the next
best thing and gave us a rousing send-off.
They turned out about two battalions as a
guard of honour, and, headed by a couple of
bands, we marched the two miles to Bulford
Siding between a double line of cheering and
13
i 4 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
hat-waving " Kanucks." They may have been
a bit lively, those Canadians, but their hearts
were where they belonged, and they were all
white.
She was a rare old hooker, was the ss. Dunera.
Besides our little lot of 250 she carried over
1400 " Terriers," many of whom looked as if
they hadn't forgotten the taste of their
mothers' milk. They were a poor lot as
regards height and build, and our fellows
could have given them a couple of inches and
a deal of weight all round. However, they
may have done all right in the scrapping, like
many another Territorial regiment : one often
gets left when one starts in to judge by appear-
ances, and a weed many a time carries a bigger
heart than a score of six-footers.
We slept in hammocks, and were packed in
like sheep in a pen. The tucker wasn't much
to write home about ; still there was enough
of it, and sea air is one of the best sauces I
know of when there isn't too much of it !
OFF 15
Our deck space was a bit limited, of course,
and after dark it almost vanished, so that a
chap was never quite sure whether he was
walking on it or on Territorial. Then there
were other things which made the going
even more treacherous and we carried
broken weather right down through the
Bay!
Our lot were quartered in the 'tween decks.
At the best of times the atmosphere there
couldn't have been much catch, so the reader
can imagine what it was like when every inch
was taken up by living, breathing (and sweat-
ing) humans. I don't like rubbing it in where
men who have rolled up to do their bit are
concerned, but the habits of those Terrier
shipmates of ours were enough to set you
thinking. They brought homeliness to a fine
art. Spittoons (had we possessed such) would
have been scorned by them as savouring of
artificiality. Socks were made to wear, not
to be hung up at night and looked at. Feet
1 6 ON THEJANZAC TRAIL
were intended to be walked on and soap
cost money. As for toothbrushes, well, they
were all right for polishing buttons. The
spectacle of a big, husky bushman cleaning
his teeth night and morning was a thing they
couldn't understand at any price, much less
appreciate. " If I did that," observed one
in my hearing, " I'd have toothache bad " ;
which seemed to be the general opinion.
They were great trenchermen, those ship-
mates of ours. Lord, how they did eat ! I
am beginning to think that we rough-and-ready
Colonials from the back of beyond have girlish
appetites as compared with some of the Old
Country boys. And we like our tucker clean :
we can chew hard tack with the next one,
but we take all sorts of fine care that the cook
washes both himself and his utensils. But
those Terriers of ours didn't seem to care a
cent whether the stuff was clean or filthy.
Trifles like that didn't worry them. And the
way they used their knives ! Still, they were
OFF 17
wonderfully expert : I didn't see a single cut
mouth all the time I was on board the Dunera.
Funning apart, however, they just ate like
pigs and lived ditto. I don't like to have to
record this, but necessity compels me. Tommy
Atkins can fight ; we admit it, and we take off
our hats to him, but compared with the
Australasian bushman the man who fears
neither God, man, nor devil he is in many
respects an uncivilised animal. True, we may
have run across him at his worst. I hope so,
anyway.
After leaving the Bay the weather took a
change for the better ; the sea calmed down
and the atmosphere grew much more balmy.
We were a little fleet of some five or six trans-
ports, escorted by a couple of small cruisers.
Our ships were by no means ocean greyhounds,
so we made slow, if steady, progress.
We killed time in the usual way concerts,
boxing, etc. on weekdays, and Church Parade
on Sundays. Life on a trooper is about the
c
1 8 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
last thing God made. I've had my share of
it, and I don't want any more. I'm not
greedy.
On reaching Gibraltar our escort left us,
signalling to the transports to follow their own
courses. We didn't stop at Gib., but pushed
straight on up the Mediterranean. The
weather was now quite summer-like, and all
on board began to perk up considerably. The
sea was a beautiful deep blue, the air had the
wine of the South in it, the sun shone brightly,
and its setting was glorious.
On sighting Malta we mistook a signal,
and made tracks for the harbour of Valetta.
Before we could get in, however, we were
shoo'd off by the Powers that Be. We didn't
seem to be the party they wanted, so we had
to hit back to the old trail. Apart from
wishing to see the place and getting a chance
to stretch my legs, I had a personal interest
in paying it a visit, as a great-uncle of mine,
who had been a fleet-surgeon during the
OFF 19
Crimean War, lay buried in the naval cemetery
in Valetta. However, it wasn't to be.
The weather all through the Mediterranean
remained as near perfect as they make it,
hence seasickness was a thing of the past.
We had the usual boat-drills, fire alarms and
so forth. At that time there were no sub-
marines down south, so we travelled with all
lights going, both aloft and below. What
with sea games, boxing, concerts, and cards
the time passed quickly. Likewise our money.
Faro and Crown and Anchor were the favourite
card games ; you could lose your partable cash
fairly slickly at either. I have seen more than
one pound resting on the turn of a single card.
I reckon Colonials are to a man born gamblers,
so it wasn't surprising that our available
capital should be " floating " in more ways
than one. However, some one introduced a
roulette table, and our cash soon floated all
one way, the " bank " taking no risks and the
" limit " being strictly enforced. Needless to
20 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
say, the bank was never broken but I fancy
the wheel was.
Being in wireless communication with the
shore we got an almost daily smattering of
news, which was typed out and read aloud in
various parts of the ship. Thus we heard
straight away of the German bombardment
of the Hartlepools. The Russians, also, seemed
to be going strong, but we were never quite
sure where, as the wireless operator made a
queer fist of the names on the map. Come
to think of it, it wasn't surprising, for they
seemed to get most all of the alphabet into
those Eastern front locations, and they sounded
jolly like an assorted mixture of coughs and
sneezes. It is easy to account for the illiterate
state of the inhabitants of those parts ; it
would take them a lifetime to learn to spell
their own names. So I reckon they just give
the whole thing best.
We arrived without mishap at Alexandria
on the 24th of December Christmas Eve.
OFF 21
It was a beautiful morning as we steamed up
the Bay, and we got a fair idea of what the
warships had to face the time they bombarded
and captured the place. And right here I
don't make any beans about stating what I
think of that scrap. The town, at that time,
was quite open to attack ; the forts were old
and crumbling ; I am fairly sure the guns were
not of the latest pattern ; and as for the natives
who served them, if they were anything like
the fellows we ran across I don't think our
jolly tars would lose much sweat in knocking
the fight out of them. I used to read a lot
about the Bombardment of Alexandria, but
now after seeing the place (and I had, on
various occasions, a good look round the old
positions) I don't think much of it.
Once tied up to the wharf it was a case of
get our coats off and set to work unloading
ship. This took up most of the day, and a
very hot day we found it. Some of the
packages were fairly hefty and took a deal of
22 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
handling, and I can't say we were over gentle
in our methods of shifting them at least the
flying men didn't seem to think we were when
it came to handling the cases containing their
engines. Our old hooker was just alive with
cockroaches, too, and regular boomers they
were ; some as big as locusts. As the various
packages were swung over the ship's side the
beggars kept dropping on us below. We didn't
like it ; there are nicer things than fishing for
lively cockroaches inside your shirt. The
natives who were assisting us didn't care a
hang about trifles of that kind. They weren't
a handsome lot by any means, but they were
a fine, stalwart crowd, lively and animated
like their shirts. They wore flowing skirts,
elastic-side boots, and stockings that pretended
to be white. They are intensely religious,
always looking for backsbeesb, and have no
morals. When we started in to boss them
up they didn't seem to know the meaning of
the word " hustle," but, ignorant as we were
OFF 23
of their language, we managed to enlighten
them ; truly, the army boot hath its uses.
English money, we found, would pass in
Alexandria with profit to the merchant who
accepted it. Thus we were enabled to pur-
chase oranges, figs, grapes, tobacco, cigarettes
in fact, 'most anything one had a hankering
for. The native hawkers and bumboat men
are a picturesque-looking lot of blackguards
enough, in a comic opera way; they are to a
man top-knotch liars, and invoke the aid of
Allah to help them out in their perjuries.
They are truly Eastern in their love of bargain-
ing ; also in their smell.
We left the same evening by train for
Cairo. The Egyptian State Railways are, on
the whole, not bad ; the trains got over the
ground much faster than I had anticipated :
about forty miles an hour, I should say. The
accommodation was good enough (no cushions
in the third-class, of course), and the whole
outfit appeared to be kept fairly clean. The
24 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
carriages were hitched on to each other like
a series of tramcars, a corridor running down
the centre of each, and a couple of overlapping
metal plates taking the place of the concertina-
like arrangement used in corridor trains in
England. If you got tired of sitting inside
the cars you could always find an airy perch
on the platform outside. To go from one
car to another necessitated a climb over the
platform guard on to the afore-mentioned
metal plates. The officials appeared to be all
Egyptians, and I am bound to admit they
were as civil and courteous a lot as one could
wish to bump up against. They knew their
work, too, and didn't grow flies. The fares
were reasonable and soldiers only paid half.
Being a troop train, we travelled third
class. On ordinary occasions, however, it is
only natives who do so, whites going first
or second. There are reasons for this ; lively
ones, too.
The old Dunera had been a temperance
OFF 25
ship, hence our chaps had worked up a forty-
horse thirst on the voyage. Now drinks
were cheap (for the East) in Alexandria, so
our crowd, being mostly old campaigners,
took full advantage of what they considered
a merciful dispensation of Providence. The
bank not being too solvent, they couldn't
all run to whisky, of course, and many had to
content themselves with laager beer " made
in Germany " ; however, the bottles (and
things in general) became a bit mixed en
route, so they got, perhaps, even more fun
out of the assorted brew than if they had all
been sipping at the same fount. Our train
travelled to an accompaniment of coo-ees,
war-cries, bush ballads, and breaking bottles.
It was a distinctly lively trip, and I shan't
forget my first Christmas Eve in the Land of
the Pharaohs. So far as I recollect, there
were no bones broken, either, and not so
very many windows.
We ran into Pont de Koubbeh station, a
26 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
few miles outside Cairo, about ten o'clock
that night, and disembarked straight away.
A number of staff officers were on the plat-
form, so we were f alien-in for a hasty inspection ;
and it was really marvellous, considering the
amount of liquid refreshment that had been
consumed, how steady a line was kept. It
might certainly have been improved, but any
little shortcomings in the way of dressing,
et cetera^ were put down by our officers to the
fatiguing day we had had, plus the heat of
Egypt. Perhaps the staif believed them. But
it was a mistake to give the order, " Fix
Bayonets ! " when those weapons were already
so firmly " fixed " amidst the gear we were
burdened with that nearly half the company
utterly failed at first to find them and when
they did succeed, the officers of the staff had
turned to go : thinking, no doubt, that the
climate had a lot to answer for.
We marched the couple of miles or so to
Zeitoun, where the New Zealanders were
OFF 27
camped, about seven miles from Cairo, passing
on the way many soldiers of the Dominion,
who were in a slightly " elevated " condition.
One six-foot infantryman attached himself to
us as guide, informing all and sundry the while
that he was as " right as the adjectived bank ! "
He may have been, but he didn't look it.
And those two miles were easily the longest
I ever padded. However, we found our
camp at last, and in the fullness of time our
blankets and kits also, and, after doing justice
to a savoury, if rather overcooked, stew,
turned in early on Christmas morning. Later
we were informed that the boys had fixed to
give us a boncer welcome, but " Christmas
come but once a year," and in the words of
our informant, " they blued their cheques,
got shikkared, and the show was bust up."
We got to sleep at last, lulled by the dulcet
strains of a Maori haka voiced by a home-coming
band of late or early ! revellers.
CHAPTER III
LIFE IN EGYPT
CHRISTMAS DAY on the edge of the desert,
within sight of the Pyramids of Gizeh ! The
very last place in which I ever thought I
should celebrate the festive season. And the
outlook was far from " Christmassy " : A big
wide stretch of yellow sand ; a rough, trampled
track styled a road ; a straggling collection of
low, flat-roofed, mud-built native houses that
looked as if they had been chucked from
aloft and stuck where they happened to pitch ;
a few vines, date palms, and fig-trees, disputing
the right to live in company with some sun-
baked nectarines and loquats ; a foreground
made up of tents, both military and native,
wooden shanties, and picketed horses ; a
28
LIFE IN EGYPT 29
background of camp stores, mechanics' shops,
and corded firewood, closed in by a line of
dusty poplars ; in the distance the desert,
a vast study in monochrome, the horizon
line broken in places by an Arab village and
cemetery, a camel train, and the forbidding
walls of some Egyptian grandee's harem ;
overhead a scorching sun shining in a cloudless
sky; underfoot the burning sand and every-
where the subtle aroma (or " sense," if you
will) of the East, at once repellent and yet
attractive, calling with ever-increasing in-
sistence to some nomadic strain that has
hitherto lain dormant in our beings calling
with the call of the East. . . .
There was general leave, of course. Most
of the chaps took the Cairo trail, those who
remained doing so in nearly every case not
from choice, but dire necessity : a week's
pay at the rate of 2s. per day (once on active
service we had to allot 3^.) doesn't see one far in
Egypt. Our crowd elected to stay for dinner,
30 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
and I must say the cooks turned out an Ai
meal. The turkey was missing, ditto the goose,
but we had as much frozen mutton, followed
by Christmas duff, as we could find room for.
The wet canteen lay close handy, so the
beer (English, too) wasn't missing. The
desert didn't look so dusty when we left the
tables.
They are keen on the dollars, are the Egyp-
tians. They swarmed round our camp like
a mob of steers round a waterhole in a dry
spell ; everywhere you ran across their match-
board stores where you could buy 'most any-
thing, from a notebook to a glass of ice cream,
made from camel's milk ! They had the time
of their lives, especially the orange-sellers.
I have bought seven jolly good oranges for
a half-piastre (i%d.) more than once, but as
a rule the price ranged from eight to twelve
for a piastre (2^.) Barrows or baskets aren't
in favour with the Gippy fruit-sellers. They
wear loose shirts and wide skirts, and by
LIFE IN EGYPT 31
making full use of these garments one man
will carry nearly a sackful of oranges and at
the same time help complete the ripening
process. It paid to wipe the fruit before
eating it.
In Egypt a man's wealth and standing is
usually reckoned on the basis of the number
of wives he possesses : when our crowd arrived
many of the fruitsellers had only one or
one and an old one yet inside a week or two
the same johnnies were bossing up a tidy
little harem of prime goods. So indirectly
I guess our pay helped keep polygamy going
and increased the population.
Egypt exists by favour of the Nile. Outside
the irrigation belt lies desert and nothing
but desert the Hinterland or Never-Never of
Northern Africa. Except for an oasis here
and there the eye searches in vain for a trace
of greenery. A huge rolling plain of yellow
sand mixed with limestone, and carpeted in
places with round, seemingly water-worn
32 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
pebbles, amongst which one finds agates in
abundance ; here and there broken and serrated
rocks outcropping boldly in fantastic shapes
from great drifts of storm-driven sand ; a
brooding loneliness there you have it.
And yet in the Valley of the Nile what a
contrast ! The very atmosphere is redolent
of fertility. Here is, indeed, a " land flowing
with milk and honey " ; a land which, give it
the water, will bloom like a garden and smell
like a huge pot-pourri. I have seen some of
the best country in four continents, yet I
never ran across richer soil or more exuberant
growth than that of the Nile Valley. When
one bears in mind that the methods of irriga-
tion and system of tillage are those of the
dim and distant past ; that a metal plough
is an object of mixed curiosity and distrust ;
that steam is not ; that the fertiliser used
(when it is used) once sheltered, in the form
of towns and villages whose history was closed
ere the Bible was written, the heads of their
LIFE IN EGYPT 33
own forefathers then one is, indeed, forced
to marvel at a land which yields such husband-
men seventy- and eighty-ton crops of sugar-
cane to the acre, and gives nine and ten
cuttings of berseine in the year, while carrying
at the same time the mixed flocks and herds
of the lucky proprietor. Little wonder, then,
that ihefellahin pray to the Nile as the Romans
used to pray to Father Tiber although
hardly with the same objects.
The climate of Egypt was rather a surprise
to us. True, it was winter when we arrived,
but we had an idea that such a season existed
in name only in the Land of the Pharaohs.
The first night, however, made us sit up and
think things, it was bitterly cold. Even
packed nine in a tent with two blankets and a
greatcoat over us we could hardly get to sleep ;
the tent felt like a refrigerator. Indeed,
until we hit on the plan of donning our great-
coats, and pulling on a pair of woollen socks,
we were anything but comfortably warm. The
34 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
days were hot enough, it is true, even in mid-
winter, but it was not till towards the end of
February that the nights lost their bite.
Before we left for Gallipoli, however, we found
a single blanket quite all right ; as for the
days, they were something to remember in
your prayers, the sun seemed to get right
down clear to your backbone, and stew the
stiffening out of your spine.
I saw rain only twice during the three months
and a half we put in in Egypt ; it wasn't
more than an anxmic Scotch mist on both
occasions. I reckon the average annual rain-
fall for those parts would figure out at about
point ten noughts and a one. We were told,
however, that once in every three years or
so, the rain came down good-oh, and washed
half the houses away, at the same time cleaning
things up generally. But the natives take
such things as a matter of course ; being
highly religious, they observe that Allah
wills it so, and set about rebuilding their
LIFE IN EGYPT 35
happy homes. I expect it's really a blessing
in disguise, and the overflow from these
villages of theirs should certainly fertilise the
soil that receives it.
We were told by the local residenters that
February was the month noted for sand-
storms. Well, we ran across two or, rather,
they ran across us. We didn't like them a
little bit. There was only one thing to do
get under cover straight away and stay there
till the beggars blew themselves out. You
would see them coming, for all the world like
a big yellow smoke-cloud stretched right
across the desert. Then it was a case of hop
into your tent, fasten up the flap, and pray
that some one else had driven the pegs home.
If even a single one should draw ugh ! it
gives me the shivers even now ! Once I saw
a pole go clean through the top of a tent,
the canvas, of course, sliding down like a
parachute and " bonneting " the inmates :
I reckon it says something for the power of
36 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
their language when we heard it rising high
above the storm.
I have mentioned that we came out from
England as an infantry company. Well,
naturally we hoped to be attached to some
battalion of the N.Z.R.'s (which stands for
New Zealand Rifles). Failing that we reckoned
on being split up and spread over the various
infantry battalions. So it came rather as
a bit of a facer, when we were paraded, told
that a Field Company of Engineers and an
Army Service Corps Company was required
straight away, and given our choice as to which
crowd we should care to take on. At first
we were inclined to think it was a bit of a
bluff ; but no, there was no get out about it.
Boiled down, it meant service with the
Engineers, the A.S.C. or our discharge and
passage back to New Zealand. We didn't
like this stunt at all, and at first some of the
boys felt like shaking things up some; but,
of course, no one held for going home, so
LIFE IN EGYPT 37
they made the best of a bad deal and took their
choice. I plumped for the Engineers ; I had
no hankering after the A.S.C. or " ' Aunty '
Sprocket's Cavalry," as it was promptly
dubbed, from the name of one of our officers
who took on with it. (" Sprocket," I may
say here, is not what he calls himself.)
We had already been through the mill
as infantrymen : we had now to start in to
train as engineers. It meant hustling some,
for the time at our disposal, we were told,
didn't amount to much. Well, we had made
our choice, and although we felt a bit sore
over being rushed, we knew it was up to us
to see the thing through to rights. So we
got into the collar straight away, consigned
the war, the Army, and the New Zealand
Government to an even warmer location
than Egypt and put in overtime imbibing
engineering knowledge.
We had our work cut out, for we had to
learn in the space of a few weeks a course
38 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
that, in the ordinary run, would have been
spread over more than the same number of
months. But most of our fellows had done
work of a similar kind, so it was fairly well
into their hands. I reckon we had just about
every trade and occupation that ever was
in our crowd, from civil engineers, miners,
surveyors, marine and electrical engineers,
master mariners and mates, right down to
shearers, boundary riders, rousabouts and
bushmen generally. Even a few " cockies "
were not missing. (" Cockie," by the way, is
short for " cockatoo," meaning, in the language
of Australasia, a small farmer.) Hence we
made progress like a house on fire, and the
officers congratulated themselves on the kind
of chaps the Lord had sent them. Indeed,
some of the sappers could have turned the
commissioned officers down had they chosen
when it came to getting about a ticklish job
and I guess the officers knew it. So we
simply took the course on the run, as it were,
LIFE IN EGYPT 39
building bridges and blowing up same, digging
trenches, fixing up and fortifying positions,
and so on.
I think, taking all in all, the lectures were
the most popular items on the list. Sometimes
we had one every day, generally after dinner
which is about the sleepiest time of the day
in a hot country. Snorers weren't liked ; they
disturbed both lecturer and audience. Apart
from the value of the lecture itself one was
always sure of a quiet, after-dinner smoke.
Yes, I fancy those pow-wows ranked first in
popularity.
Then there was bomb making and throwing.
There is a lot of excitement to be got out of
that racket especially when you go in for
experimental work. Some of our home-made
bombs were fearsome contraptions. Most of
us had quite a number of narrow shaves,
and even the niggers, keen as they were to
sell their oranges, wouldn't come within
coo-ee of our mob when engaged in bomb-
4 o ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
throwing operations. They knew a thing
or two, did those niggers.
I almost forgot to mention field geometry.
I fancy it about divided favour with bomb-
work as an occupation. For one thing, it
was more restful and distinctly quieter ; for
another, it was a jolly sight safer. You could
sit down on the sand, when it wasn't too
hot, and get right into field geometry without
having to keep your ears open for a constantly
recurring yell of : " Look out, boys ! Here she
goes ! " or " Duck, damn you ! I've got a
whole slab in her ! "
Once or twice during our training we had
a written examination covering the work,
both practical and theoretical, we had done ;
and the examining officer smiled on us like
a tabby with new kittens when he came to
read our papers. Joking apart, he was more
than pleased, and he didn't forget to tell us
so. This sort of thing may strike the reader
as a bit far-fetched sort of blowing one's
LIFE IN EGYPT 41
own trumpet ; but if the said reader will
pause to consider the class of men that com-
posed our company he will be bound in common
fairness to admit that I am not straining things
too much. Colonial training, I reckon, isn't
the worst preparation for most branches of
the service ; it turns out men anyway. And
you don't run across illiterates in the colonies
even way back in the Never-Never.
Once or twice we took part in field manoeuvres
or Divisional Training, to use the proper
term. For our little lot such things usually
meant hard graft with the pick and shovel
plus a lot of tough marching. The fun
seemed to go to the infantry and mounted
men if there was any fun in the game.
Sometimes we were out for only a single day,
but it mostly worked out at a night and a day.
Once we were away from camp for five days
and nights. In all cases actual war conditions
were observed.
I shan't forget the last Divisional Training
42 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
we took part in. The idea was that the enemy,
an infantry column, was strongly entrenched
at some point unknown out in the desert.
The attacking party, a division of Australian
and New Zealand infantry, was to march out
of camp at sunset, duly discover the enemy's
position, and deliver a night attack with its
full strength. The " enemy," to which my
company was attached, left early the same
morning, being given a day in which to select
the position and fortify it.
Our luck was out when it came to dig. My
word that subsoil was hard ! In some
places, graft as we might, three feet was all
we could sink the trenches ; we seemed to
have struck the bedrock of Egypt. After
messing up our tools badly and losing a lot
of sweat we gave it best, contenting ourselves
with raising the parapet where necessary, so
as to afford the requisite cover and shelter
to the defenders.
Our own O.C. was naturally anxious to
LIFE IN EGYPT 43
make an Ai show in his particular line, so
we prepared a boncer defensive position. We
had stacks of wire, and we didn't spare it,
shoving up entanglements that called for some
getting through all along the line. It was
understood that the wire would be plain
stuff ; but on the quiet, and to make matters
more realistic, we shoved in a couple of strands
of barbed and smiled expectantly. We also
rigged up a real good outfit in the way of
coloured flares, and fixed dummy mines here
and there in front of the entanglements ; the
latter were harmless, of course, but they
sounded pretty bad when sprung.
The trenches were manned at the appointed
time, the flares set, the mines connected up
to the exploders, and everything made ready
against the advance of the attacking division.
Our chaps (the engineers) were spread along
the position and placed in charge of the mines,
flares, etc. It was slow work waiting ; lights
were forbidden, so we couldn'reven smoke. It
44 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
wasn't to say warm, either, and I reckon every
man of us would a dashed sight sooner have
been snug in camp.
Presently our patrols sent in word of the
approach of the enemy's scouts, the main
body having halted under cover of a dip in
the ground about 1000 yards back. We
had arranged a big collection of jam tins and
similar alarms along the front of the entangle-
ments, and it wasn't long until they began to
play a lively tune in one or two places. We
guessed what had happened : some of the
aforesaid scouts had run foul of the wire,
and owing to the barbed stuff we had mixed
through it, couldn't get clear for love or money.
We sent out a party to make them prisoners,
and they were ignominiously herded in, pro-
testing the while in lurid language against
what they styled " a crook trick."
The first attack was delivered fairly early
in the night, and resulted in a decided repulse
for the enemy. Hardly a man reached the
LIFE IN EGYPT 45
entanglements, for our flares lit up the heavens
with a wealth of illuminating colours never
before seen in the desert (" just like a
picture show," as one of the officers remarked),
and the explosion of a mine or two caused
them to beat a hasty retreat. They didn't
seem to fancy those mines a little bit, and had
evidently some doubts as to their harmlessness.
The whole thing was fairly realistic, what
with the heavy rifle fire and the language,
and both sides soon warmed up to their work.
In fact, things got so warm that several lively
bouts with Nature's own weapons took place
between our patrols and some of the enemy
who had crawled up with the intention of
cutting the wire.
The next attack in force came off in the
early hours of the morning, and after a long
and fierce scrap the position was carried.
In spite of the fact that they were under a
deadly Maxim and rifle fire at point-blank
range, those heroic infantrymen set to work
46 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
in grim earnest, pulling down our entangle-
ments and stamping out our flares. Time
after time we notified them that they were
all dead men over and over again, but they
couldn't see it, and were disposed to argue
the matter. Rifle fire, we soon saw, had no
effect ; however, there were plenty of handy-
sized flints and agates lying around, and a
judicious application of the same caused a
considerable amount of delay and some loss
to the enemy. I wonder what the umpires
thought ? They didn't show up during this
phase of the operations perhaps because of
the reception that had been accorded them
some little time previous, when both sides
mistook them for an enemy patrol !
On being cleared out of our trenches, we
retired to a new position on some rising
ground, beat off the pursuing foe, and, opera-
tions ceasing, went into bivouac. Afterwards,
the umpires gave out their report, and we
felt good when it was announced that the
LIFE IN EGYPT 47
attacking column had taken almost thrice
the number of hours allotted to them in which
to storm our position. But the infantry
never quite forgave us for that barbed wire.
The mines were also a sore point. And when
we pointed out that it was simply realism we
were after, their comment was brief and caustic :
" Realism be damned ! look at our clothes ! "
CHAPTER IV
EAST AND WEST
EGYPT is surely one of the most cosmopolitan
countries in this old planet. It is also one of
the most interesting. You will find all the
breeds you want in or about Cairo, Alexandria,
and Port Said and some you don't. Quite
a variety of languages, too, although English,
French, and Arabic are most in favour.
The natives stick to Arabic, but many of
them have a smattering of French and English
of a sort. They are all there at picking up a
new language, especially if there is money
back of it. They will do anything for the
dollars. They may have had souls once ; but
n0 w They have sold them long ago.
The newspaper sellers were real dabs at
4 8
EAST AND WEST 49
learning English. They used to visit our camps
daily (like the " orangemen "), calling out the
most striking items contained in their wares.
Everything out of the common was to them
" very goot news " although we mightn't
think so. Thus one morning you might hear :
" Very goot news ; Engelsch Vancin' " ; while
the same evening the beggars were announcing :
" Very goot news : strike in Glasgow." We
got to take this kind of thing as a matter of
course, but it was a bit tough to hear : " Very
goot news : Lord Roberts dead." However,
as time went on their knowledge of English
increased at a rapid rate. But it was camp
English Australasian at that and when they
took to airing it in the streets of Cairo things
happened. They were especially disrespectful
to the Kaiser, inventing fancy diseases for him
every day, and prefacing each item with the
usual : " Very goot news "
One of the institutions of Egypt is the
Bootblack Brigade. We struck it in full force
So ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
at Cairo. No sooner did you step out of the
train there than your ears were assailed by a
shrill chorus of, " Mister, clean 'im boots."
There was only one thing to do let them
clean them. It was no good trying to dodge
those boys ; they were out to black your boots,
and they meant to black them or perish in the
attempt. You gained nothing by bolting
into a pub or restaurant ; no sooner were you
seated comfortably than they had you bailed
up by the leg and their brushes going at forty
horse-power. Even boarding an electric car
didn't fill the bill; they just chased the car
till it pulled up, hopped on board, and got to
work. Swearing had no effect ; calling their
parents names had less they were used to it.
Let them earn the usual half-piastre and you
could call them and their forefathers all the
names in the Bible. You found yourself
entirely in their hands ; go where you would
those Cairo bootblacks ran you down.
It is a gay old city, is Cairo. It is the home
EAST AND WEST 51
of Eastern curios, priceless fabrics, beautiful
pottery, good coffee, bad liquor, donkeys, dirt,
vermin, ear-splitting noises, and rampant vice.
You can get as much of each of these goods as
you like. East and West certainly do meet
in Cairo. But they don't mix for obvious
reasons.
The Egyptian of the better class struck me
as rather a fine fellow in a way. He was
certainly intelligent, handsome as men go,
and clean-run enough while on the right side
of thirty. After that age, however, he was
prone to pile on flesh and drop his chest lower
down. His chief amusements seemed to be
eating, drinking iced lemonade and sherbet,
riding in big, costly motors, listening to the
band, and admiring the Western ladies. In
dress he was an out-and-out howling swell
a flash of the flashiest. On the whole I should
say he liked and respected the Britisher in a
lazy, good-tempered way ; was a law-abiding
citizen, but would never find the sand to stand
52 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
up to the Westerner in a mix-up for the show-
boss's job.
The lower-class natives were just a cut above
the poor devils of donkeys they exercised their
cruelties on. They would sell their own
daughters to the highest bidder and throw
in a wife as backsheesb. They were nearly all
" crooks," and cheated you right and left if
you allowed them. It was only a new chum
who gave them anything like the price they
asked for their goods. They hated you like
poison when you drove a fair bargain and
despised you for a tenderfoot if you didn't.
They were as saving as a Cousin Jack, investing
their earnings in donkeys and wives. I once
asked a chap with a face like a Murchison
black-fellow, which fetched the higher price :
he side-tracked, but admitted that while it
was always easy enough to pick up a passable
wife, good donkeys were anything but common.
Taking them bye and large, the lower-class
natives, as we found them, were twisters,
EAST AND WEST 53
crooks, and liars ; they were (like most Eastern
breeds) cruel devils with animals, loading their
wretched donkeys and ponies down till they
could hardly move, and then cutting them up
with heavy sticks and whips till a fellow felt
like putting the swine to sleep. I fancy they
treated their camels rather better ; camels are
costly animals, and I have heard it stated that
if ill-treated they have a habit of eating their
masters. This I cannot vouch for, by the
way. I once nearly put my great toe out in
an argument with one of the brutes (a native,
not a camel), over a poor little donkey. I had
only light canvas shoes on at the time, instead
of the military hob-nailed boot. I never made
a similar mistake again. However, I had the
satisfaction of knowing that the unfortunate
animal would be spared bis weight for a day
or two. In dismissing the low-down Gippy
for the time, I have only to add that he is as
husky as they make them, intensely religious,
and works his wives and daughters much the
54 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
same as the other animals he possesses. He is
also a deal dirtier, and his washerwoman must
have a lively job.
Before visiting Egypt I had the usual Western
ideas regarding harem life. I soon changed
that. I'd lay an even bet that the women of
the East are, on the whole, quite satisfied with
their lot. True, they have no choice in the
matter, and have never run across anything
better. Anyway they just take things as they
find them, and seem quite content to graft
away like billy-oh, while their owners lie in the
shade and smoke. They are really only big
children, these women, with undeveloped
brains. The men have the education, seem to
hold the bank, while the women are treated
by them sometimes as toys to play with, and
sometimes as wilful kids that have got to be
either humoured or punished. I must say I
never ran across a brighter or more cheery
lot than those so-called down-trodden females.
We used to meet them everywhere, for they
EAST AND WEST 55
knock around quite openly, at times with their
husbands, and again in charge of an elderly
lady or two, of a rather more severe cast of
countenance. They wore veils that hid their
faces from the eyes down, and from what we
did see of them were not on the whole bad-
looking. They were rather fine about the eyes,
and they made full use of those organs, even
in the company of the " old man," who didn't
seem to be overjoyed when he caught them
giving the glad eye to a mob of khaki-clad
Christians. We were warned not to return
same, no matter what the provocation, lest
we should offend native feelings an order
which, of course, we obeyed !
The Turkish ladies were as flash as they make
them, dressed in what struck us as the latest
from Paris. They used to knock round Cairo
in big Rolls-Royce cars, and seemed to have
no end of a jolly fine time. They, at least,
certainly didn't appear down-trodden. I don't
remember seeing an ugly one ; they were as
56 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
pretty a crowd as you could wish to bump into,
and as lively as a basketful of jack rabbits.
The way they used to smile and roll those dark
eyes of theirs ! It made a chap feel like owning
a harem and turning Mohammedan right away.
They were out-and-out flirts, and their veils
helped them, being made of stuff like white
muslin that you could see through. To our
surprise their complexions were of the pink and
white brand. They went in for plumpness a
bit, wore high heels, hobble skirts, and ran to
fineness about the waist. Their weak point lay
in their action ; they didn't walk too well
(tight shoes, I reckon). But, on the whole,
they were jolly fetching and knew it. We
were specially warned against those Turkish
ladies. Poor girls ! And they were so keen
on learning English, too.
I used to like watching the Egyptian women
carrying water gourds and things on their
heads. I never saw one come to grief ; their
sense of balance was Ai. It made a fellow
EAST AND WEST 57
stare some to see a slender little woman about
seven-stone-nothing pick up a big gourd of
water for all the world like a ten-gallon drum,
balance it on her head, and trip off with it,
wearing a kind of " old-man-you-couldn't-lick-
that " smile on her face. I once saw a woman
carrying on her head what I at first took to
be a small hut ; on coming closer it proved to
be a large door piled up with all the family
goods and chattels. The man of the house
rode beside the old lady on a donkey, encourag-
ing her the while between puffs at his cigarette
by singing an Arab love song. He had a voice
like a quinsy-smitten parrakeet, so, perhaps,
that accounted for her staying power. And
yet she seemed quite satisfied with this truly
Eastern division of labour. They all do : ask
a woman in Egypt why she doesn't make her
better half (or quarter, or other fraction)
graft a bit more, and she thinks you are poking
fun at her ; go one further and tell her that
your wife doesn't do any hard work (which is a
58 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
lie !) and she, if she can speak English, promptly
informs you that " Engelsch woman one dam
fool ! " So there you are where you started.
I used to read of the spicy and scented East,
but it was some time before we struck the
brand you find in books of travel. True, we
had found a variety of " scents " in the land
of Rameses, but they weren't the kind of thing
you'd invite your latest girl to inhale although
they were all fairly " spicy," and typically
Eastern. Cairo has its full share ; in fact,
it bubbles over in parts, and yet it was in Cairo
that I ran the travel-book's own particular
to earth.
Reader, were you ever in the Native Bazaar
in Cairo ? If you weren't, take my tip and
pay it a visit the first time you happen to slide
Eastward. You'll not regret having done so.
But a word in your ear don't carry more
than, say, 1000 in your pocket, for you'll
spend every piastre you can lay hands on before
they let you go, and you'll blue the cash without
EAST AND WEST 59
caring a well-known adjective where the next
cheque is coming from.
The entrance to the Bazaar is far from im-
posing. I toddled in by way of a row of
butchers' booths and fruitsellers' stalls, to find
myself transplanted straight into a scene from
the Arabian Nights Entertainments. I rubbed
my eyes, opened them again and lo ! the
Grand Vizier bowed before me (with a face
like an Adelphi assassin but this by the way,
for I don't suppose it was his fault). He named
his price, I offered him 200 per cent, less ; for
a moment he seemed on the point of fainting
from surprise and indignation, then, recovering,
he accepted my terms and proceeded to do the
honours of the place in the capacity of guide.
An amusing enough cut-throat he proved to
be, too, although just a bit too fond of talking
about his adventures with the ladies. Some
of his yarns Ahem !
(Here in parentheses let me give the new chum a word of
advice on the engaging of guides in Egypt. On arriving
60 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
at the particular show he has set out to inspect and often
before he gets within coo-ee of it he will find himself
beset by an ill-clad and evil-smelling mob of hooligans all
yelling fit to raise Lazarus. Don't let them rattle him,
however ; his game is to select the biggest, ugliest, loudest-
voiced and most villainous -looking assassin in the push,
make his bargain with the gentleman much as he would
with a Paddy jarvey, then order him to " Lead on, Mac-
duff " and leave the rest to the aforesaid gentleman.
There will be no further trouble with the other lot; the
guide, if our friend possesses the faculty of reading faces,
will see to that.)
I soon found I had made a wise selection, for
a single glance from the Vizier's eagle eye was
sufficient to send the rest of the unemployed
scuttling to cover. He didn't have to use his
feet once ; it was another instance of the
triumph of mind over matter. I told him so,
but I fancy he didn't quite take me bowed
almost to the ground as he requested me to
" spik Engelsch as he no spik French moch
well." I think he must have been the Prince
of all the Assassins.
On entering Aladdin's Palace the first thing
EAST AND WEST 61
that strikes you is the narrowness and crooked-
ness of the streets : in many places a long-
armed man could pinch scent from a booth on
one side, while helping himself to a silk scarf
on the other if he were not watched so closely
by the merchants. Then the light is very
subdued ; something like that you run across
in the bush, while everywhere your nose is
assailed by the perfume of crushed flowers and
spices. Look upward and you will see the sky
a mere slit between the confining walls of the
lofty, old-world houses ; look around and you
will see the wealth of the East in lavish pro-
fusion. In a word, you are in Old Cairo, to
my mind one of the most interesting spots
in Egypt.
Let us stroll down this close-packed double
row of little windowless stalls that resemble
nothing so much as dog boxes in a canine show.
See that old fellow with the Arab features and
dress, working so industriously at his clumsy
native loom : he is eighty if he is a day, and
62 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
just as likely as not ten years older. Note the
speed and skill with which his knotted old
fingers do their work. He is weaving a silk
scarf, a beautiful piece of work, which later on
may adorn the shoulders of some harem
favourite or a New York belle. In the next
stall squats a native tailor or vestment maker.
Opposite him a spice merchant calls your atten-
tion to his wares, just as his forefathers did in
the days of Abraham. A few yards farther
and we come on a couple of young natives
busily pounding away with heavy steel pestles
in a mortar surely identical with the jars in
which the Forty Thieves secreted themselves
scent and pot-pourri makers almost certainly.
Squeezing past a mild-looking camel, which we
do not trust, however, we almost stumble over
a couple of silk spinners, an old man and a
precocious-looking ^boy. The spinning-wheel
might "have come straight from an Irish cottage.
The yarn is passed through the interstices of
the boy's small white teeth, the idea being to
EAST AND WEST 63
clean it of foreign matter, I suppose. Flatten-
ing ourselves against a sweetmeat stall to permit
of the passage of a train of heavily laden
donkeys, our eyes are dazzled the while by a
glimpse of a silk merchant's stock in the booth
opposite ; hanging to the walls, piled in huge
heaps, and lying around anyhow, are scarves,
robes, and vestments in all the colours of the
rainbow. What would that stuff be worth in
London or Melbourne ? Who knows ? . . .
We turn the corner, dodge a cow and a goat
that are being milked in the street, and find
ourselves at the entrance door of a dealer in
beaten brass and copper goods, Japanese ware,
and antiques. This we enter, ignoring the
protests of our guide, who would much prefer
that our custom should go to the more flashy-
looking store farther up the street kept by
his brother or uncle, most likely, and a first-
rate house for buying Eastern curios and
antiques made in Birmingham. You tell him
so, insult the memory of his mother, and leave
64 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
him to continue his protestations on the
threshold.
There are many things we should like to
purchase. That pair of vases, for instance, so
beautifully chased and inlaid with silver,
price 20. Or that group representing a
couple of Japanese wrestlers, dirt cheap at
ji8. Or that magnificent cabinet But
our finances only run to two weeks' pay at
two shillings per diem, so we turn our attention
to flower-holders, candlesticks, and such-like
cheaper lines of goods, enjoying the while a
cup of excellent Egyptian coffee and some
unusually good cigarettes at the expense of the
proprietor. Shopping in Cairo is a slow game,
so we kill an hour in the making of our purchases
and emerge with a balance still at the bank.
And now we come on a street almost entirely
given over to the vendors of silks and ostrich
feathers. What a wealth of colour ! And
how harmoniously the myriad tints blend with
the flowing robes of the natives, the duller
EAST AND WEST 65
hues of the crumbling walls, rickety, projecting
balconies, and sun-blanched lattices ! Looking
down the narrow thoroughfare packed as it is
with a moving sea of quaintly garbed figures,
suggests an ever-changing arabesque, kaleido-
scopic-like in its effect. It is the East as
Mohammed found it, a bit of Old Egypt
basking snugly in the warmth of a truly
oriental setting. . . . We thread our way slowly
through the noisy crowd of guttural-tongued
natives, and emerge with something approach-
ing a shock into the clang and rattle of a modern
city street with its electric cars, resplendent
automobiles, and plate-glass windows. Yet
even here the East holds its own : you see it
in the strings of camels and the numerous
donkeys that dispute the right of way with the
big touring cars and electric runabouts ; in
the open-air cafes ; in the dress of the natives,
especially the sherbet and lemonade sellers,
and the hawkers of sweetmeats and cigarettes ;
but it is the meeting of the Occident and
F
66 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
Orient, the commingling of the East and West,
and the effect is anything but congruous.
Reader, I am not out to describe Cairo.
For one thing, space forbids ; for another, I
reckon I amn't a boss hand at descriptive
writing ; and, lastly, you can get as much of
that kind of thing as you want in the guide-
books. But I should like to point out three
places you should really pay a visit to the first
time you blow into the old City : the Citadel,
the Museum, and the Tombs of the Mame-
lukes ; add to these the Zoo, and the Hezbekieh
Gardens on a Sunday afternoon, and you won't
regret it. It is a gay city, is Cairo ; a bad old
city, but, above all, an intensely interesting
one. You will there, it is true, find vice, dirt,
and immorality flaunted openly, the trimmings
all shorn away. But you needn't stop and
look, you know (you will, all the same). And
" to the pure all things are pure." Besides,
when away from home things often strike you
from a vastly different standpoint. You are
EAST AND WEST 67
out to " do " Egypt ; you have paid to " do "
it then " do " it by all means. But take my
tip, and exercise a wise discretion when writing
to the folks at the old farm. Or don't writ*
just mail them the guide-books.
CHAPTER V
DAY BY DAY
As time went on we grew more and more
accustomed to our Eastern life. With the
passing of the weeks the weather became
warmer, until it dawned on our O.C. at last
that, in the interests of his men's health, he
would have to ease off work a bit in the heat
of the day. So it came to pass that the bigger
part of our training was carried out in the early
morning and at night, the long desert marches
in the afternoons being pretty well cut out.
No one regretted it ; those wallaby trots
pulled blasphemy and sweat out of the chaps
in about equal proportions. Besides, they
were by this time in hard fighting trim ; fit
to go for a man's life. It was quite an every-
68
DAY BY DAY 69
day occurrence for the crowd to come into
camp off an eighteen or twenty mile foot-
slogging jaunt with all on, have tea and a
wash-up, and then trot into Cairo to spend the
evening. That shows the kind of training they
were in.
But it wasn't " all work and no play." We
had amusement and recreation in plenty,
between concerts at night, tennis, football, etc.
on the desert by day. We even ran a gymkhana
once, and played polo and wrestling on horse-
back with donkeys as mounts. I don't think
they enjoyed it (the donkeys, I mean), and some
of the competitors got in the way of each other's
clubs, and showed it. But the spectators were
tickled, and I fancy the natives sized us up as
all mad or tanked. Add to this boxing, and
Church Parade on Sundays, and you will .have
a fair idea of how we put in time when we
weren't training. The latter was the least
popular ; it was held out on the desert where
there wasn't a vestige of shade. It's almost
70 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
impossible to sleep in the full glare of an African
sun.
As a rule we had Saturday afternoons off,
also Sunday from the conclusion of Church
Parade, besides an odd whole day or two, for
which we had to get a special pass. Sometimes
a fellow got the chance of going in to Cairo to
fetch back a prisoner from the military jail.
In this connection I remember forming one of
a corporal's guard dispatched into the city to
bring out a couple of chaps who had been run
in by the pickets for getting shikkared and
playing round some. The O.C. let them off
with a caution and a week later one was made
a sergeant while the other got his commission !
Still, they were good boys, so the fellows only
laughed.
We were reviewed several times during our
stay in Egypt once by Sir Ian Hamilton. Oh,
the dust of those marches past ! They had
the cinema going on us at the saluting point,
but I'll take my oath they " snapped " more
DAY BY DAY 71
dust than soldiers. We were dressing by the
centre at least we were supposed to but
the line was hidden in such rolling clouds of
suffocating desert topsoil, that it was a matter
of speculation as to where the centre actually
was. However, we marched as uprightly as
the soft going would allow, mounted our
fiercest touch-me-if-you-dare-look, and as the
chaps actually in range of the camera averaged
over six feet in height right through, I guess we
looked some fighting men, and no error. It
was a day of tropic heat, we had been kept
standing-to for over a couple of hours with full
packs up, so our expression wasn't to say
curate-like as a mob of Gippy hawkers and
sightseers who happened to get in the line of
march at one time seemed to think, for they
turned tail and bolted like a harem of scalded
tabbies. At first it used to amuse us the way
the citizens of Cairo stared at the Australasian
troops ; the place was simply dry-rotted with
sedition, but after our chaps took it over there
72 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
was jolly little talk of native risings or such-like.
Of course, there were little isolated pow-wows
now and then, but they always ended in such
an all-fired jamboree that the tenderfeet
effendis and solemn-faced pashas thought the
bottom had fallen out of hell, and concluded
to give the game best. Our chaps had their
own way of tackling the beggars. And it
worked O.K.
At another time we were paraded in hollow
square and addressed by the Honourable
" Tom " McKenzie, High Commissioner for
New Zealand, and Sir George Reid, represent-
ing Australia. They had come out from
London, and, needless to say, they got a
boncer welcome from the boys. The Maoris
made the dust fly and set the desert shaking
with a big haka of greeting. Altogether things
went off kapai, and I fancy the two repre-
sentatives of the " Fatherland " (both real
sports and white men) enjoyed themselves.
Anyway, the men from Down Under were real
DAY BY DAY 73
glad to see them ; and when addressing the
Division the speakers soon showed that the
pleasure was mutual.
It would be about this period that the
Australasian forces began to be called " The
Ragtime Army." I never knew who started
the name, but anyway it stuck. Then some
Johnnie, gifted with the faculty of rhyme-
stringing, took it into his head to compose a
set of verses dealing with our daily life and
training in Egypt, every verse ending with
the words, " Only an Army standing by."
This title also stuck, and it was quite an every-
day occurrence for the infantry to march out
of camp to the sung and whistled tune of the
" Army standing by." The fact was, that the
fellows were by this time trained to the hour ;
they were sick of the dust, heat, and flies of
Egypt, and were longing to be up and doing.
They had had as tough a gruelling as men could
be put to, and were beginning to ask what was
the good of it all if they were going to be kept
74 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
" standing by " in a God-forsaken hole on the
edge of the desert. You see, rumours were in
the air ; true, these " wireless " messages, it
was proved, almost all emanated from a rather
unsavoury source (the Anzacs will recognise
the locality), but they travelled round the
whole camp with most disconcerting frequency
until one never knew what to believe and what
not. And one of these rumours oft repeated
was to the effect that the Australasians were
destined to form the permanent Army of
Occupation in Egypt. Hence the growing
feeling of discontent, the constant grousing,
and the daily lament of " Kitchener hasn't got
any use for us ; we're a ' Ragtime Army,'
6 An Army standing by.' ' But Kitchener
knew what he was about. He generally does,
come to think of it. He expected a lot from
that ragtime push and I reckon he was
satisfied.
There has been a lot of rot written and said
about the lack of discipline in the Australian
DAY BY DAY 75
and New Zealand forces. There was discipline,
although not quite the same brand as that of
the British Army. It is true they didn't
cotton on to saluting as an amusement, and
you can lay a safe bet they never will. But
what of it ? Their own officers didn't press
the point, knowing the class of men they com-
manded. At the same time those officers
knew that the rough diamonds under their
orders would play the game right to the last
man ; that they would fight like lions in their
own devil-may-care, reckless way and, if
need be, die like men, with a careless jest or
muttered oath on their lips. I say there was
the highest form of discipline in the Aus-
tralasian Army the discipline that called on
a man to die, if necessary, that his comrade
might live. Let the order go forth that a
certain position was to be held at all costs.
Was it lost ? No except over the dead bodies
of the holders. Has a single instance come to
light in which even a platoon of Australian or
76 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
New Zealand troops abandoned their trench
and bolted ? No, even when out of ammuni-
tion and unable to reply to a murderous fire.
What was it that caused first one line and then
another of those big Australian Light Horsemen
to charge to certain death at Quinn's Post ?
Discipline ! War discipline I The kind that
counts. They didn't salute much (except
when in an unusually good humour or outside
a big drink), even their own officers, but they
would follow those officers to certain death
and well the officers knew it. They were just
big, hard-living, hard-drinking, over-grown
boys : not exactly saints or respectable church-
going citizens, I fear. But they were white
right through even if they sometimes did go
looking for trouble ! And there wasn't any-
thing on the Gallipoli Peninsula could show
them the way when it came to scrapping. They
were absolutely the grandest fighting men that
God ever put breath into ! You saw it in the
square set of their jaws and the grim, straight-
DAY BY DAY 77
forward glance of their eyes. But parade-
ground soldiering wasn't much in their line,
nor the cheering crowds either.
I think I have already stated that Cairo is
a wicked old city. Well, it is. There are
places in Cairo that I wouldn't take my
grandmother through places that would curl
a padre's toenails backwards, or send the blood
to the cheek of a Glasgow policeman. She-
bangs where they sell you whisky that takes
the lining of your throat down with it, and
lifts your stomach up to the roof of your
skull ; a soothing liquid that licks " forty-rod,"
" chained lightning," or " Cape smoke " to the
back of creation ; the kind of lush that gives
you a sixty-horse dose of the jim-jams while you
wait. Real good stuff it is for taking tar off
a fence.
There are streets in Cairo where the stench
is so great that the wonder is how any living
thing can breathe it and survive ; in comparison
with which a glue factory or fertiliser works is
78 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
Attar of Roses, and an Irish pigsty a feather-
bed in heaven ; and yet in these streets these
cesspools the painted ladies of low degree live
and move and carry on abominations which
are unnamable ; things which the brute creation
is guiltless of.
There are other streets in Cairo where the
painted ladies of higher degree the very
patricians of their profession follow their
calling in an atmosphere of luxury permeated
by all the seductive and sensual voluptuousness
of a land which for countless aeons has been the
home of the voluptuary and the pleasure seeker ;
an atmosphere to breathe which might shatter
the vows of an anchoret.
There are houses in Cairo in which certain
male and female vampires batten and wax
rich on the proceeds of a thriving trade in the
White Slave Market ; houses in which wives
are bought and sold like so many bullocks ;
aye, and houses in which, if rumour say truly,
a man will sell you his own daughter and not
DAY BY DAY 79
think it worth his while to witness the wedding
ceremony !
Yes, it is a wicked old city, the Rio Cairo.
I have a lively remembrance of a certain Sunday
evening which I put in as one of a strong
Town Picket. Our " beat " lay for the most
part in the localities I have just been describing,
and it would be putting it mildly to say that
we had our eyes opened to the pleasant little
ways of the Eastern. It was more than an
eye-opener ; it was a revelation. And in
some ways I reckon it was an education. At
the same time I shouldn't advise the pro-
ipective student to imbibe too deeply of that
sink er well of learning. I can smell that
aroma even now.
About six or seven miles up the line from
our camp lay the native village of Maarg. I
had heard that this was a typical Arabic-
Egyptian settlement, and that it was quite
unvisited by the troops, so I resolved to
prospect it. Giving Church Parade a miss the
8o ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
following Sunday, my mate and I toddled
down to Helmieh Station, had an early dinner
in an eating-house there, and took train to
Maarg Siding. The country we passed through
was very different from that which surrounded
our camp ; it was all irrigated soil, hence the
track wound through a belt of land blooming
with flowers, lush grass, and magnificent
berseine crops. Everywhere the date palm,
the prickly pear, the banana, and the fig grew
in the most prodigal profusion ; everywhere one
saw donkeys, buffaloes, camels, goats, and
hybrid sheep revelling in the midst of plenty.
The soil simply exuded fertility; tickle its
bosom and the milk flowed.
Yet it wasn't worked. The surface was
only scratched by an ox-drawn wooden plough,
the pattern for which came out of the Ark.
True, it was irrigated as Joseph and his
Brethren irrigated their selections. Here and
there one caught a glimpse of a scantily clad
fellah raising water from a channel by means of
DAY BY DAY 81
a rope attached to a weighted and counter-
poised pole and bucket, or slowly turning the
handle of an archimedean screw. Occasionally
oxen were pressed into the service, and kept
to their work by women or children armed
with goads. In such cases the water was
raised by the agency of a wheel furnished with
gourds, or sherds, attached equidistantly all
round its circumference. The ox walked round
in a circle, its dexter optic being obscured by
means of a pad to prevent its entering on the
broad way that leadeth to destruction and,
incidentally, throwing the water supply out of
gear. When you bellowed Ah-h-h ! like a
goat, it kept going on its circular tour, and an
abruptly terminated Te-e-es ! caused it to
come to a full stop. It would rather stop than
go any time.
We left the train at the siding, and bumped
straight away into the usual mob of donkey
boys and beggars. Threading our way through
this lot we skirted a native cafe and store, and
82 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
set out for the village situated some half-mile
to the right front, the crowd of jabbering and
gesticulating mongrels falling into procession
behind us. In this formation we betook us
through a plantation of date palms, past a
paddock or two of vivid green berseine, and
arrived at a flour-mill on the outskirts of the
settlement. An old dame with a face like a
gargoyle sat at the door selling sticky-looking
native sweetmeats and Turkish Delight, while
inside the mill was a crowd of women and
young girls, some of the latter by no means bad-
looking. When they smiled (which later on
they did) you had a vision of ivory teeth,
flashing eyes, and Ai lips and cheeks the
latter tinged with a nut-brown bronze.
Just now, however, there wasn't a smile in
the bunch. They were as scared as a mob of
full-mouth ewes. I doubt if some of them had
ever seen a soldier in their natural although
I expect they had heard a lot about the boys.
Anyway they just crowded into a corner of the
DAY BY DAY 83
mill and squinted at us like a bunch of half-
tanked parrakeets. Something had to be done.
My mate solved the difficulty.
" How about buying the old lady out and
filling up the nippers ? " he said.
We did so, and in exchange for a few piastres
received a fairly heavy consignment of bilious-
looking lollies and Turkish Delight. These
we straightway proceeded to hold up to the
expectant view of the smaller kiddies. The
thing worked like a charm : kids are the same
all the world over. In a few minutes the
mothers stole shyly forward and held up their
babies to receive their rightful share of the
unexpected windfall. Soon the whole crowd,
mothers, kids, and flappers, were laughing and
jostling round us to the admiration and envy
of our retinue. They could not resist the
call of those sticky confections. They had
been seduced by a concoction of sugar and gum
arabic. We bought the old Ishmaelite right
out and distributed backsheesh with a lavish
84 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
hand, then proceeded to " do " the township
at the head of a now much augmented follow-
ing. I guess they sized us up as a new brand
in the public philanthropic line. It wasn't
every day that millionaires who sported five-
piastre pieces came to town. I fancy their
coinage was a copper one.
Maarg we found to be a typical fellaheen
village, inhabited by the usual mob of pictur-
esque-looking and untidy natives, half Egyptian
and half Arabic ; goats, donkeys, bastard sheep,
and hens. It boasted a miniature mosque,
a grocery and provision store, a broken-down
potter's factory, a cemetery, but no sanitation
department. The low, dirty-white houses
were topped by the customary flat roofs on
which the family washing (when there hap-
pened to be any) flaunted its shameless naked-
ness. The streets, carpeted with the freewill
offerings of the citizens, began anywhere and
finished nowhere except when they led you
unsuspectingly into the living-room of one of
DAY BY DAY 85
the aforesaid citizens. On the whole we found
Maarg to be a really interesting place, and the
inhabitants even more interesting. But they
took some getting acquainted with, for at
first every woman and child bolted to cover
as soon as we loomed in sight, following at a
safe distance when we had passed on, and
stopping when we stopped. We smiled our
sweetest : no effect. We purchased lollies
from the provision merchant and started
scrambles among our own immediate train :
they approached.
Those scrambles were the limit. They
began with the nippers. Then the flappers
joined in. Next the mothers, some with
babies in their arms, took a hand in the deal.
Finally the men, their dignity upset by the
thought of so much good tucker going into
other stomachs than their own, joined in the
general mix-up, and the show ended in a
flurry of legs and wings for all the world like a
cross between a ballet dance and a Rugby scrum.
86 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
We had a most interesting conversation
with the Mayor, or Sheik, or whatever he was,
of the community. He proved quite an
affable old gentleman, able to speak a little
English. He didn't seem quite able to size
us up at first, and was naturally curious to know
what had brought us to his township. We said
we had come on a matrimonial project (we
thought we might as well tell a good one when
we were about it ; they are all liars in those
parts, anyway), whereat he pricked up his old
ears, scenting backsbeesh. In answer to certain
parental queries we informed him that we
possessed a wife each already out in New
Zealand (which was a lie), my mate owning to
five kiddies, and I to a couple the latter bit
of information striking him as rather ludicrous
seeing that I had just told him that I had been
married a little over a year ; however, I made
it right by explaining that my family consisted
of twins.
If we had been objects of curiosity before
DAY BY DAY 87
we were tenfold so now. The market was
well stocked, and had we wished we could have
been fixed up with a tidy little harem each
right away. It was a toughish job keeping
our faces straight, while the goods were paraded
before us and a full inventory of each laughing-
eyed young lady's charms and accomplishments
made out. And some of them were real
pretty ; quite as modest, too, in their own way?
as most white girls. Not that they were
niggers (except in name) ; the colour of a ripe
peach would about fill the bill ; and when you
get that brand of complexion added to a
smallish mouth and chin, teeth like pearls, a
short straight nose, a low broad forehead
thatched with glossy, raven-black hair (plenty
of it, too), you begin to tumble to the fact
that t\iQ fellaheen girls weren't all behind the
door when faces were served out. As regards
hands and feet they could give points to most
Englishwomen, while their action was a treat
to watch. I guess the Eastern habit of carry-
88 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
ing loads on their heads accounts for their
graceful carriage. They were a smallish breed ;
slimly built and averaging about five feet and
a fraction, I should say.
I forget what the price ruled at, taken in
a camel, donkey, and goat currency. The
sheik's own favourite daughters, I know,
had a top-market reserve placed on them.
They were certainly the pick of the bunch.
Like most native women they had a tender
spot in their hearts for men of the sterner
Western breed and like all Eastern girls they
admired height and weight. We filled the
bill; modesty debars me from saying more.
They would have shaken the dirt er, dust
of Maarg from their shapely little feet and
followed us to Gallipoli had we asked them.
We didn't. We tore ourselves away, saying
that we would return to see them the following
Sunday. We meant it, too being both fond
of prosecuting the study of native types of
mankind. But, alas ! the following Sunday
DAY BY DAY 89
found us on the sea, bound for the Dardanelles
and Johnnie Turk. We presented our pro-
spective helpmeets with sufficient Turkish
Delight to ensure them dyspepsia for the
ensuing seven days, backsheesbed their parents
till they smiled sixteen to the dozen, and took
the back trail, escorted all the way to the
Siding by the united population of the settle-
ment. I doubt if we should have saluted the
General himself had we bumped up against
him, we felt so good.
On the whole, we had a rather good time
during our stay in Egypt. Our camp lay
close to both Old and New Heliopolis. The
new town was built as a kind of Eastern Monte
Carlo, by a continental syndicate which, how-
ever, failed to obtain the necessary gaming
licence. It is spotlessly clean, the streets are
like glass, and the architecture mostly snowy-
white and Corinthian-Roman in design. An
enormous hotel, said to be one of the largest
in the world, occupies the centre of a prettily
90 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
planted square ; there is a fine, showy Casino,
and whole streets of beautifully designed
buildings. It is, in fact, a model little town
resting incongruously enough on the arid
desert, a bit of Monaco transplanted to the
land of the Pharaohs. A close inspection,
however, reveals the fact that a large part of
the solid-looking architecture is a sham, most
of the ornamental work being moulded in
stucco. In this connection the natives will
tell you that when the heavy rains put in an
appearance (they only visit these parts about
once in every three years or so) Heliopolis
begins to moult in plain words the outer
crust of lime washes away, and the town bears
the appearance of a fleshless skeleton.
You can still see bits of Old Heliopolis
the Heliopolis of the Scriptures. In fact,
the modern town is built partly on the site
of the ancient city which the Virgin Mary
passed through. Your guide will point out
to you the Virgin's Well and what purports
DAY BY DAY 91
to be the tree she rested under. You can
swallow the latter assertion with a large
mouthful of salt ; the plant looks altogether
too flourishing and full of life to have so many
years on its head. The original Virgin's Tree
is, I believe, to be found close handy an old
dead stump that might be any age. In the
Virgin's Chapel adjoining you will find a
number of beautiful mural paintings depicting
the Flight into Egypt.
A few minutes' walk will bring you to the
foot of the oldest obelisk in the world, I
believe : an obelisk compared with w r hich
Cleopatra's Needle is an infant in arms. Save
for the marks of Napoleon's shot which it
received during the Battle of the Mame-
lukes, its surface is practically unscratched.
It is the dryness of the Egyptian climate, I
reckon, that accounts for the staying powers
of these old-timers. Most of them seem to
have suffered more during Napoleon's short
stay than they did during the flight of centuries.
92 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
I guess his men were pretty rotten shots. I
often wondered how they came to mess up the
poor old Sphinx's nose, or what they were
actually shooting at. It couldn't have been
the old lady herself, for if they had they'd have
missed her.
Still, I shouldn't say too much against
Napoleon and his men, for the bread we ate
while at Zeitoun was nearly all baked in the
ovens originally built by them.
During our sojourn in camp we " did " the
Pyramids of Gizeh, of course. It is a stiff
climb to the top, especially if you are wearing
riding breeches, but the view you get as a
reward is really grand. The interior is also
well worth a visit. You'll find the inside of
this big sugar-loaf to be as hot as anything this
side of Eternity, and you can't help wonder-
ing how you'd get out if the top fell in. By
the way, most folks when they speak of the
Pyramids seem to imagine there are only three
in Egypt those of Gizeh yet there are several
DAY BY DAY 93
dozens of them, big, medium, and little,
scattered about the country. At one place
(Sakkarra) I counted either fourteen or sixteen,
ranging from little piccaninnies to the oldest
one in the world, the Step Pyramid.
I also spent a most enjoyable day on the
Nile, in a native boat -feluccas I think they
are called, or our own particular craft may
have been a small dhow. We paid a visit to
the palace of Pharaoh's daughter (the one
that found Moses). The foundations and
lower part of the original palace are still stand-
ing, the upper structure being more modern.
The river washes the place on three sides,
which, perhaps, accounts for it being fairly
clean and fresh-smelling. Little fellaheen vil-
lages, partly fishing and partly agricultural,
lie scattered here and there along the river
banks just as they lay in biblical days. We
visited one of these hamlets (they are all much
the same), and breathed the usual mixed aroma
of camels, goats, sheep, fowls, stale fish, and
94 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
stale native. I don't wonder that Moses went
to sleep there.
H I had often read about the yellow Nile water :
well, it is yellow enough, in all conscience.
But it is a noble old river, and it slides placidly
along as if well aware of the fact that Egypt
exists on its good-natured benevolence. Its
average breadth near Cairo would work out
at about 300 yards, I should say. There is
no sign of hustle or flurry about the Nile, and
if you live near it for a spell you'll have a tough
job keeping in the collar, for its spirit is apt
to get into your blood some, and you'll find
yourself dropping into as big a slow-go ai the
slowest of the natives who pray to it. And
you'll enjoy the experience.
When the bank was good we used to make
a point of visiting the show places that could
be " done " during the hours of a Sunday.
Thus we explored Sakkarra and the buried
city of Memphis ; saw and admired the ex-
cavated statue of Rameses ; tried to read the
DAY BY DAY 95
bird-and-animal writing on the walls (some of
which was painted over 2000 years B.C., I
believe and still retains its colour) ; inspected
the Tombs of the Sacred Bulls, and were beat
to guess how in thunder the huge sarcophagi
were got to where we found them. We also
paid a visit to Barrage, the place of many dams
and much engineering effort not to mention
really pretty gardens wherein one may picnic
on lawns clothed with English grasses, and
yet rest in the shade of purely tropical and
sub-tropical palms and tree-ferns. Some of
the chaps even managed to see Luxor, getting
three days' leave for the trip. I drew a blank,
however : the fare ran to 2 IQJ. or 3, and
at the time I was dead up against it much to
my disgust, as I should have liked immensely
to have had a look at the Fayyum, the Garden
of Egypt.
Taking it bye and large I don't think we did
at all badly in the sight-seeing line, from the
Citadel and the Tombs of the Mamelukes in
96 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
Cairo to the Pyramids, the Nile, and other
shows farther afield. We sailed in native
boats, rode in gharris, and bestrode camels,
mules, and donkeys to further orders. I don't
think there was much lying within range of
our purses that we failed to prospect. It is a
mighty queer country is Egypt, and I hope
to see more of it " when the Germans cease
to trouble and the Turks are laid to rest."
Before closing this chapter I feel compelled
to pay my grateful tribute to the many French
friends we made while camped near Cairo.
They were courteous and kindly at all times,
and in the case of those who, like myself, had
numerous opportunities of meeting them, their
warm-hearted generosity and lavish hospi-
tality will never be forgotten. They treated
us more like brothers than chance acquaint-
ances, inviting us into their homes, and going
out of their way to show that they at least be-
lieved in the permanency of the entente cordiale.
We were brothers-in-arms just that. Surely
DAY BY DAY 97
Briton and Frenchman shall ever remain so.
That I know will be the abiding wish of every
man of the Australian forces. I had previously
met many of our Gallic friends and liked and
admired them ; now that we have had the
opportunity of becoming better acquainted
I embrace this opportunity of expressing my
admiration and liking in the strongest possible
terms. I feel that I could not do less.
Vive la France !
CHAPTER VI
" THE BATTLE OF THE STREETS "
I SHALL pass over the Turkish fiasco at the
Suez Canal. Suffice it to say the thing was
foredoomed to failure. Whatever hopes the
enemy may have cherished of breaking through
and causing a rising in Egypt were squashed
by the arrival of the Australian and New
Zealand Expeditionary Forces. With those
forces actually on the scene it is hard to com-
prehend what devil of rashness and crass folly
impelled the Turkish leaders to go on with
the venture. Perhaps it was pride ; perhaps
German influence lay back of the move ;
perhaps some queer twist in the Eastern char-
acter who knows ? Not I. But this I do
know : they came on bravely enough as
98
6 BATTLE OF THE STREETS' 99
Turks always do and were slaughtered like
sheep. It was just a glorified shooting match.
Poor devils !
Reader, have you heard of the " Battle of
the Streets " ? That isn't its right name, but
it's near enough. Anyway, it was fought in
Cairo, the scene being a locality much in
favour by the painted ladies for residential
purposes.
No one I have spoken to seems to be quite
clear as to what actually started the scrap.
One yarn was to the effect that a New Zealander
had been stabbed ; another was that some
Australians had been robbed of a biggish lot
of cash. Letting the reason go, however,
there is no doubt that things were fairly lively
in Cairo that night, and at one time it looked
an odds on chance that the whole street might
have been burnt.
I happened to be in Cairo that evening
having a run round in company with three
ioo ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
mates. We had got comfortably outside an
Ai dinner and a bottle of light Greek wine
when the row started. As a matter of fact,
we drove slap into the mix-up in a gharri, and
before we got shut of it the battle had de-
veloped into a first-class slather-up. The
street was packed full of Australians and New
Zealanders, with here and there little groups
of badly scared effendis working overtime in
their efforts to get clear of the struggling mass
of grim Colonials, who, to an ear-splitting
accompaniment of yells, cat-calls and coo-ees,
were devoting their energies to an all-round
wrecking and smashing game. Crash ! went
a wardrobe as it struck the ground with the
impetus acquired by a forty-feet fall from a
top-storey balcony. R-i-p-p ! went the bal-
cony itself as it followed hard on the heels
of the bedroom furniture. Hither and thither
rushed the lightly-clad love-ladies screaming
as only Eastern women can, and stopping only
to hurl a bottle or other missile at some grinning
'BATTLE OF THE STREETS' 101
Vandal who ducked quickly, then went on
enjoying himself. Soon the street bore the
appearance of a West Indian town that had
bumped up against a cyclone. It was a work
of art threading one's way through it with all
those household gods hurtling round one's ears.
Presently the street was illuminated with a
dancing red glare as the stacks of piled-up
furniture broke into flame. Soon a house
itself began to belch smoke and fire, the bone-
dry woodwork responding eagerly to the lick-
ing tongues of flame that ran lizard-like from
doorway to eave, and danced merrily through
the interstices of the sun-scorched shutters
and blistered piazza rails. In a minute the
lofty structure was sheathed in rolling smoke
clouds, pierced with darting spears of a ruddier
hue ; the whole house was blazing fiercely,
the roar of the fire blending with the wild
shouts and cheers of the excited incendiaries
as they danced a mad corroboree round the
burning wreckage in the street below.
102 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
Another sound the clang of a bell broke
on our ears as the fire-engines came racing up.
Out came the hose ; the police, who had
hitherto remained in a state of " armed
neutrality," endeavoured to clear a way for
the native firemen. That settled them ; no
Colonial will stand the touch of a nigger's
hand on his shoulder.
" Rush the adjectived, asterisked, double-
starred sons of lady dogs, boys ! "
The " boys " did so. I never saw a com-
mand obeyed so promptly and with such
unanimity. The black police were just as
quick to appreciate the general unhealthiness
of the locality, and left with one accord.
The firemen, bereft of their lawful guardian
angels, followed. The hose was cut, and the
engines were captured. This done the mob
proceeded with the work they had set out to
accomplish the cleaning up of one of Cairo's
cesspools.
Another interruption ! This time from the
BATTLE OF THE STREETS' 103
" Red Caps," the military police, a little
coterie of well-fed, rather pampered, and
intensely self -consequential johnnies who were
openly accused by the Australasians of suffering
from " cold feet." Perhaps this was just a
bit unfair, as they knew Cairo like a book,
and knew all there was to know about their
own special job. But our chaps could never
understand why an active man of military age
and training should remain permanently on a
soft town job (as they did) instead of going on
active service with the other boys. Come to
think of it, who could ? And some of the
military police I have run into have had feet
like refrigerated mutton. They didn't join
the army to be shot at. Not much ! Which
perhaps accounts for their zeal in hunting down
the unfortunate Tommies who, coming home
from the front wounded or on leave after a
pleasant little spell of " killing or being kilt,"
may have neglected to salute an officer, to have
buttoned up their greatcoats, or committed
104 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
some other such grave military offence
running him down, I say, and seeing to it that
the erring one received every single day of
" C.B." that hard swearing could procure
him. Such, in far too many cases, is their
conception of soldiering. . . . And the previous
sentence reads for all the world like an Irish
bull. All the foregoing by the way, however.
The police behaved like looneys. They
seemed to imagine they had a mob of English
Tommies or niggers to deal with, but when
they began trying to force their horses on top
of the crowd they soon dropped down to the
fact that they were up against something
tougher. They were told pretty straight to
go home and eat pie and not come meddling
round where they weren't wanted. They
didn't like being treated that way and showed
it, so they had to be shoo'd off. At this they
seemed to lose their top covering altogether,
and, being armed with revolvers, opened fire
on the crowd.
' BATTLE OF THE STREETS' 105
It was now hell with the lid off. A number
of the boys were hit, which sent the rest fair
mad. You should have seen those Red Caps
do a scoot ! I don't think they got away
unharmed ; one I heard never got away at
all. They had been looking for trouble, and
I reckon they found all they wanted. You
don't shoot down the chaps from the Colonies
and get away with it : " An eye for an eye
and a tooth for a tooth," is the motto of the
men from Down Under.
Our little party now came to the conclusion
that it was time to take the back trail. We
could foresee what was likely to happen.
Already strong mounted pickets were coming
in from the New Zealand camp. We made
tracks for Shepheard's Hotel, but found all
exits from the scene of hostilities barred by
cordons of dismounted men. We looked at
each other. There were four of us, all six-
footers and all at least thirteen-stoners. There
was only one thing to do and we did it.
io6 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
When the part of the line we charged had
regained its formation we were too far away
to make pursuit worth while.
The "Battle of the Streets" eventually
ended through the combined effects of thirst
on the part of the law-breakers and the arrival
of strong pickets to the aid of the Powers that
Be. There was certainly a biggish lot of
damage done, and the natives who saw the
scrap got the scare of their lives. But I fancy
there weren't more than a house or two burned
down more's the pity ! Had the whole
quarter been gutted there wouldn't have been
many voices raised in mourning, and it would
certainly have been no loss to Cairo.
One result of the row was the curtailment
of leave to visit the city. From this time on
we had to obtain special passes to do so. Signs
were not wanting, however, to show that our
stay in Egypt was drawing to a close. No one
regretted it ; the weather was growing hotter
day by day; we had seen 'most all we were
' BATTLE OF THE STREETS' 107
ever likely to ; we were in hard training,
fighting fit, and were looking forward with
eagerness to having a dust-up with the enemy.
In a word, we had attained to that top-knotch
pitch of condition in which we felt we must
fight some one or burst. Hence when the
call did come we boarded the train for Alex-
andria with hearts as light as our pockets, and
the determination to show " K. of K." that
the trust he had placed in our " Ragtime
Army " would never be betrayed.
CHAPTER VII
AT GRIPS
FROM now on I fancy this " history " of the
doings of the Anzacs is going to be more of a
diary than anything else. I kept a rough note
of things as they happened day by day. For
one thing the diary style pins the various events
down to a kind of sequence and insures their
being told in the order in which they hap-
pened ; for another it saves the author a deal
of labour. This by way of explanation and
apology. Here goes, then
April 17, 1915. Sailed from Alexandria in
transport ^26, otherwise the s.s. Goslar, a
captured German prize. We had a Danish
skipper and a Greek crew a poor lot as sea-
men go. We were quartered in the forepeak,
108
AT GRIPS 109
the quarters being rough, but on the whole
fairly comfortable. We shared them with a
healthy and mighty lively lot of brown bugs.
The tucker wasn't too bad.
The weather was fine and the sea calm all
the way to Lemnos Island. Had a pow-wow
with the O.C., who read out aloud the General's
orders, informing us that we should land under
cover of the warships' guns, that we were to
drive the Turks back, secure a footing, and
hold it at all costs. Anticipated heavy
losses. When dismissed went and made our
wills.
Were met on the I9th by the cruiser Dart-
mouth and escorted by her till the evening,
when a destroyer took us in charge and saw
us safely into Mudros Harbour. The Dart-
mouth informed us by semaphore that trans-
port 5i2, steaming one hour ahead of us,
had been attacked by an enemy torpedo boat,
three torpedoes being fired at her, all of which
missed. A number of soldiers jumped over-
1*
i io ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
board, thinking the transport was doomed,
and were drowned. The torpedo boat was
engaged by our ships, driven ashore and
destroyed.
We arrived in Mudros Harbour, in Lemnos,
on the night of the I9th. It was just crowded
with shipping, and looked for all the world
like a big floating town. Were informed that
there were over 200 transports and 60 war-
ships gathered in the harbour. Had a splendid
view of the Queen Elizabeth as she lay quite
close to our old hooker. The anchorage was
simply alive with destroyers, torpedo boats,
submarines, etc., both French and English.
The French craft struck me as being a bit
mouldy-looking, not so up-to-date as the
British. You could always tell a French
destroyer, she was so crowded up with all
kinds of deck gear, and had a general Back
of Beyond look about her like a chap who
had stopped washing and shaving for a longish
spell.
AT GRIPS in
During our stay at Lemnos we amused our-
selves by practising boat drill, landing of
troops, etc. It was no joke swarming down a
rope ladder loaded up in full marching order
and it was just as bad climbing up again. One
of our chaps let go his rifle ; the rest con-
tented themselves with language. No one was
drowned.
It was while lying here we had our first
solid day and night's rain, the first really heavy
fall since leaving home. The temperature
rapidly dropped in consequence till it became
like early summer in England. Were told
that we should find no firewood where we
were going, and orders issued that each man
was to carry a bundle of kindling wood strapped
on top of his pack. We shall look like a mob
of walking Christmas Trees when we get all
on. Living on bully beef and biscuits now;
no bread.
April 23. Had a rather pleasant sail in one
of the ship's boats to-day. Landed on a
ii2 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
small island in the harbour and cut a big
supply of green fodder for the horses we had
on board. Found the formation of the island
to be volcanic in character, as all the land
round about these parts seems to be. Not
much sign of water, yet the sole of grass was
good, and the colour a vivid green. Plenty
of white clover, some of what looked like
English cocksfoot, and a plant that struck me
as Italian rye-grass. Heard the cuckoo and
the lark, and noticed some small green lizards
scurrying over the outcropping rocks. Thought
I saw a tarantula spider, but wouldn't swear
to it.
Coming back to ship found we had to beat
against a head wind. Our craft was lug-
rigged, the sail something like a dirty pocket-
handkerchief. She had no use for beating ;
there wasn't a beat in her. Tried to ram an
outward bound mine-sweeper which refused
to get out of our way. Mine- sweeper's captain
called us names that may have been true but
AT GRIPS 113
didn't sound nice. Doused the sail and rowed
back. In the evening we watched the French
and English transports and warships leaving
the harbour. Rumours fill the air the latest
that we leave for the Dardanelles to-morrow
(2 4 th).
April 24. Preparations for the big event.
Told that the staff were prepared to lose
80 per cent, of the forces to effect a landing ;
also, that the fleet could see us ashore but that
it couldn't take us off again ; once ashore we'd
got to look after ourselves. The fellows
stroked their chins and looked thoughtful for
a spell ; I reckon they were thinking of the
pie that mother used to make or of their
latest girls. We were also told that as like as
not all the wells on Gallipoli would be poisoned,
and that we should have to do on our water-
bottles for three days. Three days on about
a pint and a half ! And biscuits ditto ! We
began to cotton on to it that it wasn't a picnic
or mothers' meeting we were out to take a
i
1 1 4 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
hand in. Were served out with a 2-oz. tin
of tobacco between four men, and three packets
each of cigarettes. Handed in our blankets
and waterproof sheets, so will be going ashore
as we stand. Very stiff fight expected, as it is
fairly sure that the Turks will do all that is
in them to beat us back. Wonder how many
of the boys will go under ?
Later. Under way. All lights out and
general air of suppressed excitement on all
hands. Some of the chaps making a book on
the event, and laying odds on the chances of
the takers getting through the slather-up
unharmed. Others tossing up to see if certain
of their mates will finish up in heaven or hell I
No one the least downhearted ; all determined
to at least give the enemy the time of his life
when they come to grips. They are certainly
as tough a crowd as ever got into uniform.
Landing expected to take place just at day-
break or slightly earlier. Creeping along like
a " mob of thieves in the night," as one of
AT GRIPS 115
the chaps put it. Distance from Lemnos
about 45 miles, I hear, so will be there in
whips of time. Funny thing to think that
one's folks will be lying in bed sound asleep
at the moment we go into the enemy, and
never dreaming of what their men will be
taking on. Just as well, too, come to think
of it. Weather Ai. Sea calm; nothing to
complain of in that line, anyway.
April 28. First chance of scribbling any-
thing for three days. Been through hell
just that. War ! It wasn't war ; it was
just cold-blooded butchery. How the position
has been held beats me. But held it has been
and it's going to be held at a cost ! I
wonder what the price of crepe will rise to out
in Australia and New Zealand ! Here goes
for a shy at describing our amusement of the
past three days.
It was dark when we left the transports off
Gaba Tepe and crept in towards the denser
blackness that represented the shore. The
n6 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
night or early morning, rather was still ;
everything seemed in our favour ; not a sound
welled out seaward, not a light twinkled in the
murk ahead. Could it be that we had taken
the Turks by surprise ? Or were they simply
lying low and playing a waiting game ? Soon
we were to know.
On on crept the boats loaded to the
gunwales with the citizen soldiers from the
Dominions. Every jaw was set hard as
agate, every eye was fixed on the forbidding-
looking heights now taking form dimly as
the east reddened and the sky became shot
with lengthening spears of greenish-yellow.
Minutes passed minutes that seemed as hours
while ever shoreward crawled the fleet of
boats, and ever plainer and gloomier loomed
the frowning cliffs that dominated the Bay
of Anzac. Back of the flotilla, away to sea-
ward, lay the British warships, their grey
hulls floating ghostlike in the first of the
dawn like couchant lions scenting blood. A
AT GRIPS 117
sense of protection, modified to some extent
by the stretch of intervening water and the
ghostliness of their outlines, emanated from
those cruisers and battleships squatting like
watch-dogs on the chain, alert and eager.
Our gaze wandered ever and anon from the
forbidding shore ahead to where those un-
couth grey hulls broke the sea-line. Would
they never give tongue !
. . . We were close to the land. The
wouff 7 of a gentle surf breaking on a sloping
shingle beach, followed by the soughing of the
undertow, came plainly to our straining ears.
Back of the crescent-shaped strand, now dimly
outlined in a flatted monotint of leaden grey,
rose the darker, scrub-clothed slope, its breast
seamed and gashed by dongas and water-
courses, that stretched to the foot of the sheer
bluff whose summit cut the sky-line 400 feet
above our heads. As the minutes passed the
scene changed. Sand and shingle took form
and colour in the rapidly growing half-tones.
ii8 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
The blackness of the slope beyond merged
into a velvet green. The serrated crest of the
ridge grew roseate as the first of the sun-rays
stretched forth athwart the fields of Troy and
touched it with gold-tipped fingers. A new-
born day begotten of early summer had sprung
from the womb of an Eastern night a day
fraught with much of suffering, much of
mutilation and death, but surely a day that
shall live in the history of the British Empire
so long as that Empire stands. . . .
Was it the surprise we all hoped for, after
all ? the surprise that seemed beyond the
bounds of possibility. Were there any Turks
there waiting to oppose us at all ? And if so,
where were they hidden ? In trenches cut
on the beach ? In the scrub ? Behind the
crest of the cliff ? God ! were they never
going to show themselves ?
Crash ! Bang ! Z-z-z-z-z-ip ! It was
hell let loose hell with the bottom out !
The whole beach belched flame and spat
AT GRIPS 119
bullets. The scrub behind burst forth into
a sheet of fire. Maxims maxims everywhere !
The place seemed alive with them. It was
as if we had received a blizzard of lead in our
faces. The physical shock was almost more
than flesh and blood could bear. For a
moment it seemed as if the whole flotilla was
doomed a moment in which whole boat-
loads of brave men were absolutely cut to
pieces and mangled out of all recognition in
which boats were blown from the water,
smashed into matchwood and riddled from
stem to stern by the high explosive and
shrapnel fire that came over the crest of the
cliff hot on the heels of the rifle and machine-
gun fire. Just a moment ! Then the men
from the bush, the plains, and the cities of
Australasia showed the stuff they were made
of. In dashed the boats in anyhow, no
matter how, so long as they touched Turkish
soil some bow on, some stern on, some
broadside. All higgledy-piggledy, a confused
120 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
mass like a huge dismembered raft tossed on
a sea that hissed and spouted as its surface
was torn by the never-ceasing rain of lead
and iron. Over the sides of the boats dived
and rolled those splendid infantrymen, their
bayonets already fixed. They knew what to
do ; no need to give them orders. No time
to form no time to think. The cold steel
nothing but the steel ! Off fell their packs ;
down dropped their bayonet points, and with
a wild yell that rose even above the awful
battle roar that made day hideous they hurled
themselves straight as their rifles at the unseen
enemy. In sixes and sevens, in tens and
twenties, in platoons, in half -companies just
as they tumbled out of the boats those great-
hearted fellows dashed up the beach and into
that sickening inferno. They didn't fire a
shot ; they didn't waste a single second. They
jus.t flung their heavy packs from their shoulders,
bent their heads to the storm, and with every
inch of pace at their command they charged
AT GRIPS 121
the Turkish trenches, some fifty yards distant.
Charge ! I never saw a charge like it. It
was a wild, breakneck rush, regardless of losses.
Nothing short of killing every man of that
magnificent soldiery could have stopped their
onslaught. The machine-guns and rifles took
their toll but they utterly failed to beat down
that desperate assault delivered by those iron-
nerved men those men who openly boasted
that they feared " neither God, man, nor
devil." In a moment they were into the
enemy's front line of trench, machine-guns
were captured, and the Turks got a taste of
the bayonet that will never be forgotten by
those who escaped. And they were few.
Just a minute of hacking, slashing, and stabbing
one minute of sickening yet exhilarating
butchery in which no quarter was given ;
when to kill! and kill! was joy unspeak-
able and those long, lean, brown-faced
men with the square jaws and fierce eyes
were up again, their bayonets smoking, and
122 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
charging the second line of trenches with the
same dare-devil recklessness. What power on
earth could stop such men ? Not the Turks,
anyway. With imploring cries of "Allah!
Allah ! " they abandoned their trenches and
scurried up through the scrub, the panting
Colonials straining every nerve to overtake
them.
It is difficult to understand the Australasian
character. He will joke even in the midst of
danger, nay, death. He is, as a rule, a " hard
doer " ; and even his best friends must admit
that he is often a hard, and fairly original,
swearer. Nothing is safe from him when look-
ing for a butt ; very little is sacred, I fear,
and his humour takes a queer bent sometimes :
which accounted for the behaviour of the
landing force on this occasion, dear reader
that and the desire to inflict all the Arabic he
knew (picked up in Egypt) on the fleeing
Turk.
" Imshi ! Talla ! " yelled the now laughing
AT GRIPS 123
Colonials, as they followed hard on the heels of
the enemy.
"Allah! Allah!" continued the Turks,
and they put on an extra spurt.
" Allah be d d ! Clean 'em boots !
Eggs is cook ! Three for a 1'arf ! Imshi,
you all-fired illegitimates ! "
Such, with the addition of ear-splitting
coo-ees, wild bush oaths, and a running fire of
blasphemy and unearthly cat-calls were the
battle cries of the men from Down Under as
they drove the enemy out of his trenches and
up the hill, through the scrub, over dongas and
gullies, right to the base of the sheer cliff
itself, up which finally, all mixed together and
sliding, crawling, and clinging like monkeys,
scrambled pursuer and pursued in one loosely
strung mob of panting, war-drunken men.
It was the personification of grandeur : it was
the apotheosis of the ludicrous. In a word
it was the old reckless, dare-devil spirit of their
ancestors the men who carved out the British
124 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
Empire re-born in those virile youths and
young men from that bigger and fresher and
brighter Britain overseas.
Meantime the guns of the fleet were pouring
in a terrific fire, their shells screaming over-
head and bursting well beyond the ridge. It
was difficult at first to see what execution they
were doing, and at this stage of the fight I
don't think many of the enemy were bagged.
As our chaps advanced farther inland the
shells from the ships began to pitch amongst
them, so their elevation was raised and their
fire concentrated on the Turkish communica-
tions and on the dominating hills that lay on
our flanks. They also tried hard to locate
and silence the enemy's big guns, but they
were so well concealed that it was almost
impossible to silence them.
Once on top of the ridge our fellows paused
for a minute or two to get their breath, then,
as full of fight as ever, they doubled into the
scrub and pursued the retreating Turks with
AT GRIPS 125
unabated ardour. It was now an open battle,
and except for the fact that the Anzacs were
exposed to a heavy shrapnel fire, Jack was as
good as his master. In threes and fours at a
time the shells burst over and swept through
the lines of advancing men, taking their toll
all the time. The Turks took full advantage
of the plentiful cover ; they knew the country
and we didn't. Now and then one caught a
glimpse of a fleeing figure or two ; that was
all. We had no field artillery to cover our
advance, and the consequence was we suffered
heavily, our guns not coming into action till
the evening, and then only one or two had
been landed. Add to this the natural diffi-
culties of a broken and rugged country which
we had never seen before, and the reader will
have some conception of the task that faced
the Dominion troops. It was next to im-
possible to keep in touch with each other, let
alone preserve something approaching an un-
broken line. Thus the fight resolved itself
126 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
largely into one of units. Here and there
isolated bodies of infantry pushed far ahead,
then lying down they held on grimly until
the main force came up and eased the
pressure.
One or two lots got caught in the beds of
deep gullies, were opened on by concealed
enfilade fire from machine-guns and rifles,
and died to a man. But they died fighting.
One party at least fought its way almost to
the Narrows, and then disappeared : not a
single man returned. The rest pushed on and
on, trusting to the reserves coming up and
enabling them to hold the captured ground
those reserves that came in driblets only.
The fact was that the men could not be thrown
ashore quickly enough to reinforce in the
strength required. Where battalions landed
there should have been brigades ; where
brigades, divisions. It was just sheer bad
luck. No blame attached to the fleet every
man worked like a Trojan, worked on without
AT GRIPS 127
paying the slightest attention to the hail of
projectiles falling around. They were white
right through, those boys from the warships,
from the plucky little middies and the jolly
" Jacks " right up to the senior officers. I pity
the chap who ever says a word against them if
any of the Anzacs happen to be within coo-ee
of him ! Come to think it over, I don't see
that blame could be fixed on any one. The
country was just made for defensive purposes ;
it would have required division after division
to have been thrown in on each other's heels in
order to reduce it, or to seize the ground to
the Narrows and hang on. We simply hadn't
the men. And the natural difficulties in the
way of getting up such reinforcements as we
had, not to speak of supplies, ammunition, etc.,
were nigh insurmountable. There were no
tracks, much less roads ; the guns that were
landed that first evening had to be pulled by
hand through the standing scrub ; the landing
parties on the beach were open to continuous
128 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
shell fire, not to mention snipers altogether I
don't think there was ever such a daring or
hazardous enterprise attempted in the world's
history.
And now strong Turkish reinforcements
appeared on the scene. Battalion after batta-
lion of fresh troops joined the enemy firing
line. It stiffened up : we failed to break it.
Our men were falling fast ; half our strength
seemed to be down, killed or wounded, while
the remainder were beginning to feel the
effects of their tremendous gruelling in the
fierce heat of a sub-tropic sun. Still on came
the masses of Turkish reserves. The naval
guns, especially those of the Lizzie, cut them
up, but didn't stagger them. They took the
offensive. For a time it was charge and
counter-charge, give and take. But it couldn't
last ; the odds were too great. We retired
fighting and in that retirement our losses
were something cruel. Machine-guns and
shrapnel did the damage mostly, but the
AT GRIPS 129
Mausers took their share. Only in one thing
had we the advantage the bayonet. When
we got to hand grips with them the Turks
couldn't stand up to our chaps, who went for
them with the cold steel like devils red-hot
from hell.
No man who took part in that retirement
will ever forget it. Overhead burst the shells,
underfoot the dust rose and the twigs snapped
as the unending rain of rifle, machine-gun, and
shrapnel bullets zipped ! and spattered around.
Men fell fast, killed and wounded ; every
temporary stand we made was marked by little
groups of grotesquely postured khaki-clad forms
still with the stillness of death. Here and there
one saw a sorely wounded man feebly raise his
head and gaze pathetically after the retiring
line of hard-pressed men ; others (and these
were many) limped and hobbled painfully
along in the wake of the retreating infantry,
till in many cases another bullet laid them low.
Most of our wounded fell into the hands of
K
130 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
the enemy. It was hard to leave them, but
what could we do ?
Time after time we tried to dig ourselves
in. In vain ! The line had to be shortened,
else we should be outflanked by the enormously
superior forces opposed to us. There was
nothing for it but to retire right back to the
ridge and hold the crest or try to ! Back
then we went, retiring by companies and half-
companies. There was no running, no panic
at any time. When the Turks pressed us too
closely we gave them a shake-up with the
bayonet. In many cases men had to rely on
the steel alone, their ammunition giving out..
Time after time the enemy drew back while
his big guns and maxims wrought their will
on us. He didn't half like the steel.
We reached the ridge, and, exhausted as we
were, started to dig ourselves in. Our throats
were parched, for we dare not broach our water-
bottles lest we should be tempted to finish them
straight away. Once a man begins to drink he
AT GRIPS 131
will keep on. In many cases bottles had been
shot through and the contents drained away.
Others had left them with wounded comrades.
For food we munched a biscuit when we had
time ! There weren't many biscuits eaten
until after nightfall.
We dug a line of holes, scratching fiercely
with our trenching tools, all the while sub-
jected to a withering shrapnel fire. The
naval gunners seemed quite unable to locate
and silence the Turkish artillery, so cleverly
was it concealed. Lying down as flat as pos-
sible we scraped away, working frantically
for the much-needed cover that should enable
us to hold the position, if it were possible to
hold it. At times we dropped the trenching
tools to lift our rifles and beat back the
oncoming enemy. Yet it was evident that the
Turks were beginning to feel the strain too.
Perhaps they thought they had us anyhow,
for their assaults began to lose a lot of their
sting, and we were enabled to get a half chance
132 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
to dig. As the day waned and nightfall
approached they came again, and we were
hard put to it for a time to hang on. Charge
and counter-charge followed rapidly on each
other's heels, and all the time a deafening fire
was kept up along the whole position. Then
the brief twilight changed into night ; the fire
slackened off ; the moon rose, and for the first
time since early morning we were enabled to
obtain a few minutes' rest before going on
digging again in the attempt to connect up
and deepen the shallow holes we had scratched
into one continuous trench.
We stuck to it hard all through the night,
grafting away for all we were worth. It was
our only chance. Yet at times we were abso-
lutely forced by sheer fatigue to drop our
tools and stretch out for a spell. Sixteen
hours of hard, solid fighting through a broken
and hilly country, followed by a whole night's
digging ; then stand-to before daybreak, and
all the succeeding hours of the second day
AT GRIPS 133
hold the trenches against intermittent attacks.
At night go on working at strengthening the
trenches ; stand-to again before daylight the
third day and from before dawn till well on
in the evening of that day do your bit at beat-
ing off the enemy's attack in force with a fresh
army that outnumbers you by five to one the
attack by which he means to seize your posi-
tion at all costs ! Just do the foregoing, dear
reader, and you will realise what those Aus-
tralasian troops endured. And do it (as they
did) on a pint and a half of water and a few
biscuits.
It was on Tuesday, April 27, that Enver
Pasha launched the attack against our lines
that was to drive us into the sea. All through
Monday and Monday night our transports were
landing fresh troops under heavy and constant
shelling from the Turkish big guns ; under
cover of the darkness these troops were marched
up and placed, some in the fire trenches to
fill up the many gaps caused by the enemy's
134 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
shrapnel and machine-guns, others massed in
reserve at the base of the cliff. Yet not a man
of those who had stormed the position the
first day, and who had been hard at it ever
since, could be spared from the front line.
Come to think, I don't fancy a single one would
have left it. The feeling had got abroad that
the change was going to be taken out of the
Turks this time (it had leaked out that the big
attack would certainly take place on Monday
night or Tuesday morning), and the chaps
were fair mad to get a bit of their own back.
They did, too.
Our position as finally formed extended
along the very crest, or rim, of the cliff for a
distance of about two miles, or rather better.
Here and there deep gullies, or canons, ran
into and cut the line, or caused the line itself
to " bulge " considerably towards the enemy
position. Such was " Shrapnel Gully," at
the head of which lay " Quinn's Post," where
our trenches had to be pushed perilously for-
AT GRIPS 135
ward owing to the configuration of the ground.
" Quinn's Post," in fact, formed the key to
the whole position ; it lay right in the centre
of the line, and had it been carried the whole
bag of tricks would, in my opinion, have
crumpled up badly, and a big disaster might
have occurred. When your centre is pierced
it's no picnic. To the left of " Quinn's " was
" Dead Man's Ridge," held by the Turks, and
from which they were able to snipe right down
" Shrapnel Gully " and, incidentally, our
camps and dug-outs. It was from " Dead
Man's Ridge " that General Bridges was shot
close to Brigade Headquarters down in the
" Gully." No man was safe from those
snipers ; they seemed to be everywhere
before, alongside, and behind our lines even.
Hence no supplies could be brought up in day-
light ; everything had to be done at night
when there was only shell-fire to worry about.
Afterwards we got those snipers fossicked out
(they met strange deaths sometimes !), but
136 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
in the meantime our life wasn't anything to
hanker after.
Now had the enemy only succeeded in push-
ing us over the rim of the ridge, nothing would
have saved us. Below lay the open beach.
We couldn't possibly have been taken off with
the heights in the hands of the Turks. I guess
it would have been one of the biggest and finest
wipe-outs in history. Old Enver Pasha thought
it would look jolly well in the morning papers,
I expect. Anyway he had no end of a hard
try and to give him and his men their due I
don't mind admitting that they weren't so
very far from succeeding.
I don't pretend to describe that struggle.
No man could. It was grit, tenacity, and
gameness opposed to overwhelming numbers.
A battle of giants. It was sickening ; brutal
and yet splendid. Men fought that day
stripped to the waist ; fought till their rifles
jammed, picked up another and went on
fighting. Men with broken legs refused to
AT GRIPS 137
leave the trench, cursing those who would
have assisted them went on firing until a
second bullet crippled their rifle arm. Yet
still they clung on, handing up clips of car-
tridges to their mates, all the time imploring
them to " give the sons of hell ! " They
weren't Sunday-school models, those big-
hearted, happy-go-lucky toughs from the Back
of Beyond. But they knew how to fight
and die. They were men right through, not
kid-glove soldiers. They lived hard, fought
hard, and died hard. And what if they did
die with curses on their lips ! Who shall dare
to judge them, dying as they died ? And it may
be that the Big Padre up aloft turned a deaf
ear to those oaths begotten of the life they had
lived or perhaps He failed to hear them in
the noise of battle !
The Turks attacked gamely, like the big,
brave soldiers they are and always were. Led
by their splendid officers, they came on in
masses, shoulder to shoulder, and did all that
138 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
in them lay to rush our trenches. They were
met by a storm of bullets that would have
staggered anything born of woman. It did
stagger them : they recoiled before that leaden
blast that piled their dead and wounded up in
ghastly heaps and ridges like broken-down walls
before that smashing fire delivered at twenty
yards range. They recoiled yes. But run
no ! They charged, charged right through
that hurricane of machine-gun and rifle fire
charged right up to our parapets.
And now it was our turn. Like one man
the colonial infantry leaped from their cover.
Crash ! They were into the Turks. Followed
a wild hurly-burly of hacking and stabbing
while one might count twenty slowly ; then
the enemy were beaten back, and the defenders
ran, limped, and crawled back to their trenches
and took to their rifles again.
Thus it went on from before dawn till towards
evening. Charge and counter-charge, till men
reeled from sheer exhaustion, and their blood-
AT GRIPS 139
clotted weapons slipped from hands sticky
with the same red paint. I am not exaggerat-
ing ; those who were present on that awful
Tuesday will bear me out.
We were hard pressed. The strongest men
in the world are only human. Loss of sleep,
insufficient food, and practically no water,
combined with the exertions we had already
gone through, began to tell their tale. Our
losses were also very heavy ; and owing to the
slippery state of the clay soil, following on an
all-night of rain, our reserves could not get
up quickly enough. Thus yards and yards of
trench were at times empty of all save dead
and wounded men, and in some cases the Turks
effected a footing in them ; they were always
driven 'out again, however, or bayoneted to a
man. Our fellows were simply magnificent ;
budge they would not. To capture those
trenches meant the killing of the men who
held them ; you couldn't drive them out. And
the officers were just the same.
140 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
But it was cruel to hear the continual cries
of
" Stretcher bearers ! Stretcher bearers to
the right ! "
" Stretcher bearers to the left ! "
" Ammunition ! Send up ammunition we
haven't a round here ! "
" Reinforce ! For God's sake reinforce /
They're into No. 8 ! Christ / boys, get a
move on ! "
At this time we had neither support trenches
nor communications just one thin line, which,
if broken, meant the loss of the ridge with all
that that meant. We were also so clogged up
with dead in our trenches that to make room
for the living we had to throw the bodies out
over the back. In many cases where our line
was cut on the edge of the ridge these bodies
rolled right down to the foot of the cliff. At
" Quinn's Post " things were about as bad as
they could be. There was only the merest
apology for a track from the " Gully " up to
AT GRIPS 141
the trenches situated on the very lip of the
crest, and at one time when reinforcements
were making their way in single file up this
track they had to scramble in and out through
and over dead men lying tossed about anyhow,
while all the way, right down to the valley the
wounded were lying " heads and tails " await-
ing transport to the beach. It wasn't the
most encouraging sight in the world for the
fellows coming up straight off the transports.
In one place quite a little stack of bodies
had been huddled together to one side of the
track ; there might have been eighteen or
twenty in the lot. Owing to the water run-
ning down this stack began to move, and kept
on moving till it blocked the track up alto-
gether. I don't know how many chaps
tumbled into that heap and got tied up in it,
but eventually a fatigue party had to be told
off to build up the bodies as you would build
sheaves on a wagon. We had no time to bury
our dead for the first few days and in that
142 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
climate you don't want to keep them above
ground for many hours.
As the day wore on it became evident that
the Turks had shot their bolt. The attack
died down, then ceased altogether, and save for
the heavy rifle and artillery fire they kept up
on our trenches, we weren't troubled by them
for some time. They had lost tremendously ;
the ground along our front looked like a heavy
crop of wheat after the binder had been through
it either 4000 or 7000 dead lay there. (And
they lay there unburied for three weeks.} At
last we were able to get a little sorely needed
rest. We had been pushed to the extremest
limit of human endurance.
CHAPTER VIII
THREE WEEKS
April 28 (Wednesday). I am writing this
in the shelter of my little dug-out, with the
big guns roaring away like billy-o and the rifle,
maxim, and shrapnel bullets pitching all round.
One is comparatively safe in a deeply cut dug-
out ; if you shove only your head up some
sniper lets go at it. And this behind our own
trenches. We aren't likely to die of ennui here,
anyway nor old age.
Heard that the Turks are mutilating our dead
and wounded, but haven't seen anything of
it myself. Strange yarns going the rounds
that some of our chaps have been indulging
in reprisals. " An eye for an eye and a tooth
for a tooth " is the motto of the men from
143
H4 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
Australia and New Zealand, so if the enemy
has been playing up in a way of that kind he'll
get his own back with interest. Wounded
coming in steadily. Tried to get a few hours'
sleep last night. Got one. Spent the night
trenching, or sapping, rather. Engineers don't
need rest seemingly.
Infantry holding the enemy all right now.
Very big Turkish gun shelling the warships at
long range. Doesn't seem to be making much
of it. Heard that the Lizzie sank a Turkish
transport yesterday. Rifle fire not quite so
heavy just now. Heard that the British Tom-
mies were advancing strongly, driving the
enemy down on us. Just had orders to go on
trenching at " Quinn's Post " to-night, ad-
vancing new saps and making a new advanced
fire trench. Raining hard, a cold rain. No
coat or blanket. Sure to be pretty miserable.
2C)tb. Came back to dug-out at 1.30 a.m.,
very wet, very cold, very miserable. All sticky
with mud. Got some sleep.
THREE WEEKS 145
Weather cleared up later. Battle still going
on, we holding the enemy safely. Went on
sapping at " Quinn's," in four-hour -shifts.
Very lively and " jumpy " work enemy crawl-
ing up at dark and firing at fifteen to twenty
feet range. Periscopes now being used, made
in most cases from glasses cut from large
mirrors taken from the ships. These periscopes
don't last many hours at this part of the line,
as a rule, and many nasty scalp wounds have
been received through the glass being shattered
by rifle fire. We have had to make them as
small as possible simply a lath with two small
pieces of mirror about two inches by one. In
some cases, even, a walking-stick with the
centre cut out has been used with good results.
Miss my overcoat and blanket greatly, the
nights being cold. Haven't seen them since
we discarded our packs at the landing.
$otb (Friday). Still the same : battle going
on. Sapping continued under difficulties.
Stench from enemy's dead lying near the
146 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
trenches very bad. Fed up with continuous
sapping work. Tucker improving a bit. No
mail yet arrived. Heard that Goorkhas had
landed to assist us. Removed to new ready-
made dug-outs further up the hill. Came
back again on hearing that the late owner had
been shot while lying in it. Message of con-
gratulation from Lord Kitchener to Colonial
troops. British Tommies reported to be
advancing strongly, and due to join us to-
morrow night. First bombs thrown into our
trenches to-day the cricket-ball variety fitted
with time-fuses. We amused ourselves by
making " catches " of these bombs and slinging
them back into the Turks. It was lively work,
and certainly exciting. Pd much rather play
cricket on the Auckland Domain, however.
RUM to-night the first issue since landing.
It went down slick.
May I (Saturday). Sapping : still sapping.
Getting quite close to enemy, their nearest
trench being now only about twenty feet
THREE WEEKS 147
distant. Plenty of Turkish bombs to enliven
the time. One I picked up yesterday and
pulled the fuse out of was sent down to head-
quarters for inspection. On my asking to
have it back I thought of making an ink-
bottle out of it, or a spittoon I was informed
that it was now Government property, but
that I might as a favour get it back again.
Shan't let the next one I get hold of fall into
the hands of the Government ! Turks attacked
our right flank in force, but beaten off by
Australians after suffering heavy loss. Our
machine-guns simply mowed them down in
hundreds. Things looked bad for a bit as
the enemy shrapnel got well home into the
open ditch that is supposed to be a trench,
and our losses were heavy. Also, some fresh
troops (not Anzacs, thank heaven !) sent up to
help our fellows didn't play the game, letting
the Australians down badly. Why the dickens
do they enlist boys of seventeen in some of
the Home corps ? They are only in the
148 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
way when it comes to cold-blooded bayonet
work.
Some of our fellows are now partially deaf
owing to the all-fired row that goes on day and
night. Changed camp to-day, shifting to
other side of " Shrapnel Gully," about a
quarter of a mile away from " Quinn's." Made
a boss dug-out for four myself and three
mates. While eating dinner a piece of shell
as large as my hand (No. 1 1 in gloves when I
wear them !) bumped straight into our happy
home, just grazing 's back. Made our-
selves fairly snug with sandbags, etc. Have
now got a great-coat (late owner past caring for
such things), but no blankets. Got our first
whole night's sleep last night since landing,
rather broken owing to unusually cold night
following extremely hot day. Snipers very
busy; one said to have killed over a dozen of
our chaps to-day down at a water-hole in the
" Gully."
May 2. Fight still going on : 8th day of it.
THREE WEEKS 149
Shell fire not so heavy, but rifles talking away
as merrily as ever. Very trying in trenches,
owing to stench from dead men. Read the
following scrawled in blue pencil on a cross
made from biscuit-box wood just outside our
camp : " In loving memory of 29 brave soldiers
of the King." We are living practically on a
big graveyard. Our dead are buried anywhere
and everywhere even in the trenches. It
takes a lot of getting to like. Had a boncer
breakfast this morning, firewood being fairly
plentiful. Haven't had a wash, my clothes
or boots off, since we landed eight days ago.
Wonder what I look like ! Made a road for
mules from valley up to firing line, following
a winding course. Came back to camp and
heard that a big general advance is to take place
to-night, commencing at 7 p.m. My section
is to be divided into two half-sections, each
under command of a non-com., and appointed
to a separate unit. My party appointed to
the 1 6th Battalion, Australian Infantry. Sure
150 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
to be a hot picnic. Wonder how many of us
will draw rations to-morrow !
May 3. Am back in camp again with a
smack in the right shoulder and a useless right
arm and jolly glad to be back, too. Am the
only tenant of our dug-out, my three chums
being knocked over all seriously wounded.
Can just manage to write.
We had a crook spin. The big guns of the
ships and the shore batteries started the ball
by shelling the enemy heavily and driving him
from his front trenches with some loss. We
followed the infantry to the attack at dusk,
advancing up a dark and evil-looking gully or
nullah, the track being only fit for amphibious
monkeys to follow, and so narrow that single
file had to be adopted. We didn't enjoy our-
selves a little bit, as added to the natural diffi-
culties of the passage we were up to the thighs
in mud and water one minute and scrambling
over roots, branches, and rocks the next, all
in pitch darkness we were sniped at point-
THREE WEEKS 151
blank range all the way, losing several men.
At last, after a very trying time, we gained the
top and found that the leading companies of
infantry had carried the position and were
engaged in digging themselves in under one
of the hottest fires I ever ran up against. Our
little half-section of about eighteen men were
ordered to spread themselves along the line,
their duties being to advise and assist the in-
fantry. We did so, and at once men began
to fall. The Turks were only about fifty yards
away, and although it was dark they could
see our chaps fairly well against the back-
ground of stars. In a few minutes half our
lot were down, I myself being put out of action
by a bullet glancing off a pick and getting me
in the right shoulder. At the same instant my
water-bottle was shot through and the rifle
blown from my hand. It wasn't at all a
healthy climate. It was just a shambles. Men
were lying killed and wounded as thick as
sardines in a tin. I remember apologising to
ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
a poor chap for treading on his face. But he
didn't mind being dead.
Although my wound was only slight, it
settled me for doing any more work, so I was
sent back with a message to the O.C. in camp.
I shan't forget that trip in a hurry. Owing to
having to make a detour to avoid the reinforce-
ments that were coming up, I cut across the
back trail without knowing it, and almost
walked into the Turks, who were out on a flank-
ing game. One son of a gun tickled the back
of my neck with a bullet, and another put one
so close to my ear that I felt the organ to make
sure it was still hanging to my head. That was
good enough for me ; I wasn't greedy ; so I
just ducked and ran, never stopping till I had
to head down in three feet of mud at
the bottom of a ten-foot donga ! However,
I got my bearings at last, hit the trail, and
staggered into camp, more dead than alive,
at about midnight. Delivered my message,
had my wound dressed, and after a pannikin
THREE WEEKS 153
of tea turned in and had a smoke and an
hour or two of sleep. Shoulder hurt a
bit.
The captured position was held all day, but
owing to being commanded by some rising
ground on which the Turks were strongly
entrenched and from which they were able to
enfilade our chaps, it was abandoned at dark.
Hard lines after the heavy losses. But life
is cheap here. Heavy firing towards evening.
Stayed in my dug-out smoking and nursing
my arm.
May 4. Very heavy firing all along the line
most of last night. Distant bombardment by
fleet heard. Stayed in camp all morning, but
went up to " Quinn's " in the afternoon and
supervised infantrymen sapping. Very short
of engineers now. My section is just about
wiped out. Enemy threw in a regular cloud
of bombs, then attacked strongly. They suc-
ceeded in getting a footing in the front line
trenches, and some hard hand-to-hand bayonet
iS4 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
fighting had to be put in before they were
cleaned up. Shoulder won't be " fit " for some
time ; however, I can always boss up others
although doing a loaf myself. Had a very
" scratch " tea to-night.
May 5. Up to sap again at 3 a.m., and sat
rifle in hand on a cartridge-box for four solid
(and weary) hours keeping guard. Turks only
a few yards off. If one had showed his nose
over the parapet I doubt if I could have raised
the rifle to my shoulder ; however, the working
party didn't know that. Nothing very lively
happened. Sap head ran into a dead Turk,
who was so tied up in the scrub that he couldn't
be shoved to one side except at great risk.
Only one thing to do : we sapped through
him. It wasn't the nicest job in the world,
seeing the time he'd lain there. Came back
to poor breakfast. Could have done with a
" go " of rum. Didn't get any.
In the afternoon bossed up a whole com-
pany of London infantrymen at road-making.
THREE WEEKS 155
There is plenty of variety in the engineering
line I find. My company certainly didn't
know how to go about the job they had taken
in hand, and they had never even heard of a
corduroy road, while their ideas on the question
of drainage would have shocked Noah. Their
officers thought they knew all there was to
know, but really didn't know enough to know
how little they did know. I had a slight differ-
ence of opinion with those officers. I got my
own way.
The country here is rather pretty deep
gullies and canons with high hills clothed with
dwarf oak (we called it holly) and firs ; in the
gullies one runs across the arbutus, the flower-
ing thorn, a kind of laurel, and a wood that
resembles the New Zealand karaka. Wild
flowers bloom in profusion ; my dug-out is
gay with a little pink rambler rose that threatens
to engulf it in its tendrils. The growth is
rapid. We have evidently struck the right
time of year for visiting Gallipoli. In a way
156 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
the Peninsula reminds me of parts of the North
Island of New Zealand.
In the way of bird and animal life there are
larks, doves, pigeons, hawks, turkeys, cuckoos,
and tortoises. The latter animals caused our
sentries many anxious moments. I shouldn't
care to calculate how many tortoises were
" halted," nor how many were shot at. They
were big fellows as tortoises go, and when a
chap got a squint of one mooching along the
skyline in the moonlight, it was all the odds to
a tin-tack he let go at it.
In the insect line we could count quite a
tidy little collection. We had flies by the
hundred billion. They were everywhere,
from the heaps of dead to the cook's pots.
Put jam on a biscuit and it was always a sprint
to your mouth between you and the flies, the
event usually ending in a dead heat. There
were other insects not quite so plentiful as
the flies, but even fonder of our company at
least, they stuck close to us ; they're not
THREE WEEKS 157
usually named before ladies, except in the
pulpit.
We had snakes, scorpions, centipedes, and
big hairy tarantula spiders ; and when they
elected to drop into the trenches things got
fairly lively. We liked them just about as
much as they liked us. A state of war existed
between us : we took no prisoners.
AND (a very big " and ") there is gold
on the Gallipoli Peninsula. There is. It's
there for I myself panned off the dirt and
found the colour ! I know the spot, and some
day, perhaps, I'll have a try for the big seam.
I have a fairly good idea But that's
another tale.
There are other things in our trenches that
we don't care overmuch to have as company.
Maggots maggots crawling in battalions about
a chap's feet and dropping from the sides of
the trench down his neck. Maggots from the
dead ! You can't sit down hardly without
flattening a dozen or two out. It's bad for
158 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
one's uniform. Something will have to be
done, or we'll all be down with disease. It's
a good job we were all inoculated against
enteric, anyway. The smell is worse than a
glue factory. We have dead Turks right on
our very parapets. Only this morning a bullet
pitched into one lying close handy, and the
^putrid matter (of the consistency of porridge)
was " spattered " right over us. They say
you can get used to anything. Well, maybe
so. But it's hard to get used to that. No
news yet, and no way of sending any.
Later. First part of a mail arrived at last.
Two letters for me. Am going to try to get
letters sent off ; they will be strictly censored,
of course. The sergeant of my section killed
to-day a really nice fellow and a general
favourite. I'll soon have no chums left at all.
Enemy is now using explosive bullets. I have
seen their effects.
Driven out of sap every time we entered it
by bombs. One burst within three feet of
THREE WEEKS 159
me without doing any harm. Firing going
on as usual. Managed to get a change of
socks to-day. Needed them. Rumoured that
the British or the Turks have presented an
ultimatum, calling on one or other to surrender
within twenty-four hours no one seems to
know which. Also that the French have taken
a big fort at the Narrows. Air full of rumours
and projectiles. Big guns almost splitting
the drum of my ear as I write. Very heavy
Maxim and rifle fire this evening. Quite sick
of it all ; the Turks take a lot of beating.
Weather beautiful ; sea calm and of an azure
blue colour. Rum issued to-night. Big event.
Things looked brighter afterwards.
May 6. Heavy cannonade, but lighter rifle
fire. Lots of bombs. Fellows getting quite
deaf. Was down at beach to-day. Navy men
very busy landing stores, etc. Officers (Navy)
very fine fellows, and both they and their men
swear by our chaps. No side or laddy-da
about the officers. One a lieutenant in-
160 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
formed me that our fellows were born fighters :
" But you want to give them plenty to do,"
he went on ; " for when they're not fighting
they're looking for trouble." Afterwards I
overheard him describing the landing to a new-
comer. " They're not soldiers," he finished
up, " they're not men ! They're just
wild devils let loose from hell ! The instant
the boats grounded over they went, head first,
came up with fixed bayonets, and rushed those
machine-guns like runaway steam-engines !
It was the most reckless, grandest slap-dash
charge that I or any other man ever witnessed.
Oh, they're beauties to scrap ! And their
vocabulary would raise your hair ! "
May 7. Weather still beautiful. Position
just the same. Fire from all arms still going
on. Enemy sapping in line with us. More
of my section laid out ; only a few left. Being
reinforced by volunteers from our mounted
crowd drivers, etc.
May 8. Heavy fire all night. Fancy con-
THREE WEEKS 161
siderable waste of ammunition. Rather quiet
day. Some artillery fire from enemy trying
to locate our guns, which are well hidden.
Mail supposed to come in to-morrow. Hope
so, as many letters are due. Posted a letter
myself to-day in a haversack hanging to a
bush. Hope it goes all right. Rum to-night.
Very welcome, but short ration. I wonder
why ?
May 9. Very quiet night, with occasional
bursts of rifle fire. Enemy tried hard with his
guns for one of our batteries this morning, but
failed to get it. Notice posted that British
warships have forced the Narrows and are in
the Sea of Marmora. This should hasten the
end. Hope so, as we are all fed up with stick-
ing to the trenches here. Rumoured that the
Russians are in the Bosphorus : don't believe
it. Heavy, distant cannonade last two days
and nights. Fleet, I suppose. As I write
hardly a shot being fired. Arm still queer.
Got a short rifle to-day in place of the old long
M
.162 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
one I selected. (Prefer long rifle for good
shooting, sniping, etc., but short one better
for the trenches.) There is a history attached
to the one I have now. It was picked up just
outside a new sap by one of our chaps, and when
found the bayonet was fixed and a single shot
had been fired, the cartridge case still remain-
ing in the breech. A dead Australian was
lying beside it.
Memorable event : had a shave to-day, the
first since leaving the transport. The razor
was a borrowed one ; my beard was like a mop.
Both suffered.
Was detailed as one of party sent to super-
vise infantry digging trenches. Went out at
8 p.m. and came off at midnight. Did nothing
but lie about and get miserably cold, as I had
no great-coat with me. Infantry made another
attack on position they captured last Sunday
and retired from. Carried it again and again
retired, owing, it is said, to lack of reinforce-
ments at the critical moment. Truth is, it is
THREE WEEKS 163
almost impossible to bring up reserves quickly
enough owing to the nature of the country.
Hard lines, all the same, considering what it
costs to capture these entrenched positions.
May 10. Fairly quiet. Artillery still throw-
ing shrapnel over our camp and right down
to beach. Did another four hours to-day
from 8 a.m. till 12 noon. To go out at 8 p.m.
again. Tobacco and cigarettes issued to-day,
the latter in bad condition very mouldy.
Went out from 8 till 12 midnight to fix a
pump and deepen a well. Had no tools, it
was pitch dark, dare not light even a match,
so did nothing but lie around and growl.
Mail in.
May II. Heavy rifle fire all night. Was
out from 8 a.m. till noon bossing up Royal
Marines at trench-digging. Quiet morning,
but heavy rifle and artillery fire in the
afternoon. Yesterday, I was told, shrapnel
pitched all round me in camp, tearing up the
ground and smashing a rifle close to my head.
1 64 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
I took no notice of it. I was asleep. Nice
safe camps we have in these parts ! The
29th Division (Irish) reported to be only two
miles from our right flank to-day. Report
confirmed later. Good news ; something
ought to be doing soon. Heavy naval firing
going on in the distance. Heard that 4*7"
naval guns had been placed in position on
" Pope's Hill," to our left. Wish they could
lay out the Turkish guns especially " Asiatic
Annie " that keep warming us up in our dug-
outs ; we are getting tired of the beggars.
Heard that the Lusitania had been sub-
marined near the Irish coast. Poor devils !
it's a one-eyed kind of death to be drowned
like rats in a trap. I'd a dashed sight rather
be shot any day. " Commandeered " a can of
butter, some cheese, jam, and potatoes, so have
lived high to-day. " Virtue rewarded " the
stuff just smiled at me as I was passing the
commissariat. I couldn't resist its blandish-
ments. Anyway, the Quartermaster is always
THREE WEEKS 165
complaining about the " non-keeping " quali-
ties of his provisions. And, when all's said and
done, it's simply a raiding of the Philistines.
How does the water get into our rum ? Some
rain to-day, cloudy, overcast skies, and not at
all warm.
May 12. Rum and not watered ! Rained
all night ; place a quagmire this morning. Got
hold of some sacks and managed to sleep more
or less dry. Have neither waterproof sheet
nor blankets. Heard that all our blankets
left behind on ship had been taken for wounded.
If that is where they have gone we don't mind ;
sick men need them more than we do. Rather
quiet night ; expect both sides too wet and
miserable to worry about killing each other.
Didn't go out last night ; thought I might as
well stay in and nurse my shoulder, which is
doing real good. First night in for longish
spell. Went out this morning and bossed up
a lot of marines at trench-digging. It rained
all the time and the ground was as sticky as
1 66 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
fish-glue. Climbing up to " Quinn's Post " in
this kind of weather is like the Johnnie in
Pilgrim's Progress who found his swag growing
bigger and heavier the farther he went. You
can hardly lift your feet owing to the amount
of Turkey sticking to them, and for every two
yards you advance you slide back more than
one. And coming down is just as bad,
although a deal speedier. You start off gin-
gerly, sit down suddenly squelch ! and when
your wind comes back you find yourself at the
foot of the hill with a sniper biffing away at
you and enjoying the joke. It's quite funny
to read about.
My clothing is getting sadly in need of
repair. Nothing to repair it with, however.
Enemy's shells passing barely twenty feet above
my dug-out a bit too close for comfort.
Thinking of shifting my camp. To-day the
cap from one of our own shells passed clean
through a man in a dug-out just above my own,
and injured another. Our gunners do things
THREE WEEKS 167
like that of a time : perhaps they imagine we
need a little more excitement or have a per-
verted sense of humour. Heavy distant firing :
the fleet at it again, I suppose.
May 13. Came in at midnight after a spell
of sapping or, rather, watching others sap.
Went on camp fatigue carrying water, fetching
firewood for the cooks, etc. Can do this all
right with one good arm. Otherwise had a
light day. Australian Light Horse Brigade
arrived from Egypt (minus horses), and now
manning trenches as infantrymen. Employed
my spare time in deepening my dug-out and
fixing things up generally in my camp. Tre-
mendous firing by ships last night ; something
doing. Fairly quiet day, with occasional
bursts of rifle fire by both sides ; also a little
shelling. Noticed the following painted on
some of our shells : " Turkish Delight : distri-
buted free ! " Went out at 8 p.m. to dig com-
munication trench from " Shrapnel Gully "
up to firing line on " Pope's Hill."
1 68 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
The position was a very exposed one, as we
had to carry the trench up over a ridge open
to enemy fire at fairly close range. It couldn't
possibly have been done in daylight, so we were
sent out to get a hustle on and complete the
job before morning. Even as it was the Turks
must have taken a tumble to our game, for
they kept up a hot fire on the crest of the ridge
all night long. As I couldn't use my arm I
was put on sentry-go, and spent hour after
hour lying in the scrub with the bullets hissing
and spitting in the air round my head or knock-
ing sparks out of the flinty soil. It wasn't a
bit jolly. We ran into a dead man while we
were working a Ceylon chap who must have
lain there since the landing. One of our chaps
went down to camp and fetched up a padre
a fine old sort who stood up and read the
Burial Service under fire, and remained on the
ridge until we had buried the corpse. I forget
the parson's name, but I fancy he was the
same man who worked at stretcher-bearing all
THREE WEEKS 169
through the first night in company with a
Roman Catholic priest. There was a yarn
going the rounds about this priest having taken
part in a bayonet charge near " Quinn's " : he
denied it, but well, from what I saw of him,
I feel more than half inclined to believe it.
We also found a dead Turkish officer. He
had evidently been sketching round about
these parts, his sketching wallet containing
many drawings lying beside him. I wasn't
lucky enough to get away with a specimen.
May 14. Quiet morning for this locality.
A little shelling plus some bombing. Enemy
now taking to writing messages on pieces of
paper, wrapping a stone in the paper and chuck-
ing the things into our trenches. They seem
to imagine we have lost touch altogether with
the world at large, and have taken it on them-
selves to furnish us with news. We are sur-
prised to learn that fourteen British battleships
have been sunk by the forts at the Narrows,
that Egypt is in a state of revolt, and that the
1 70 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
Germans are preparing to invade England,
They asked us to treat our prisoners well, and
they would do likewise with theirs. In a
further message (an ultimatum) they called on
us to surrender with our whole bag of tricks
inside sixteen hours, and on receiving our reply
more forcible than elegant some merry dog
chucked back the following : " Well, if you
won't surrender we will. Suppose we both
surrender ! "
Were served out with a new kind of biscuit
to-day. It looks and tastes like stale bread,
but when soaked in water and fried in fat it
goes down well. I now save all the fat I can
from my morning rasher of bacon, storing it
in a jam-tin. I find it useful for cooking
" chips " (when there happens to be any
" spuds " about) ; also for greasing the bolt
of my rifle. Speaking of bacon reminds me
of a little picnic that happened a few nights
ago. Two of us were passing the A.S.C. stores
down in the " Gully." There was much store
THREE WEEKS 171
of jam, bacon, cheese, etc., piled in boxes on
one side of the track. Now the back of this
lordly stack of cases rested against a high but
slender bank. In front was the camp of the
attendant satellites. The thought seemed to
strike us both at the same time. We acted on
it right away. Putting in a short drive through
the bank we struck oil spelled, in this case,
J-A-M. Since then I have done another
little bit of prospecting round about that claim.
I feel like having ham for breakfast ; therefore
I shall pay another visit to our drive, remove
the bush that secures its entrance, and !
Our stores are mostly brought up from the
beach by mules, Indian drivers having charge
of the stubborn animals. I am bound to say,
however, these Indians seem able to do any-
thing with their charges. They are very fond
of them, too, and they (the mules) look fat
and well cared for. I believe the drivers would
almost as soon die as see such a fate overtake
their beasts. Here is a case in point which I
i;2 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
witnessed myself : a shell exploded bang above
the track on which a transport team was making
its way beachward. A mule staggered and
came down on one knee, then righted itself.
The driver examined the limb carefully, and
rinding the damage only amounted to the loss
of a bit of skin, he threw his arms round the
animal's neck and kissed it on the nose. I
couldn't help wondering if he'd have kissed his
wife in a like case.
Weather growing hotter daily. Flies in-
creasing all the time. Flowers coming into
bloom fast. Eased my feet by changing socks
from left to right the only change I could
manage. Rockets thrown up by the Turks
last night. Wonder what the game is ? Fancy
homing pigeons are being used by the enemy,
as I have noticed quite a lot flying about lately.
May be wild ones, of course. Went on trench-
ing same as yesterday.
May 15. Heavy firing during night. New
Zealanders stormed enemy's trenches to the
THREE WEEKS 173
left of our position last night and held them
against strong counter attacks. Reported loss
500. A good bit of work well carried out.
Antwerp and Ostend reported to be recaptured.
Submarines said to be cruising off Anzac Cove,
and all transports have left in consequence.
H.M.S. Lion said to have been torpedoed ;
didn't know she was nearer than the North
Sea. Went up to " Quinn's " at noon to go
on sapping, etc. Some sniping, but little
damage. Wish we could get the dead buried :
the stench takes a lot of getting used to. Fairly
quiet night.
Three weeks to-morrow since we landed !
As lively a three weeks as any man could wish
for. It seems like three months. But it's got
to be done. And if I am lucky enough to get
through this slather-up I mean to live a man
of peace for the rest of my natural : get on
to a tidy little place, grow spuds and cabbages,
and raise early chickens and kiddies !
CHAPTER IX
SITTING TIGHT
May 1 6. Went on sapping, this time at
"Pope's Hill." Had a man killed here in
rather curious way. He was in the act of
throwing out a shovelful of dirt when a bullet
struck the blade of the shovel as it appeared
for an instant above the parapet, came right
down the handle, and knocked the poor chap's
brains over his tunic. Rough luck ! Came
off work at noon. Quiet evening ; some
artillery and machine-gun fire. Another of
our officers killed by a sniper to-day. A smart
sort he was, too, and popular with all in the
corps. Rum and tobacco issued always an
event. But why do they give us " medium
strength " when nine out of ten of our chaps
have been used to hard tack ? This soft stuff
174
SITTING TIGHT 175
only burns our tongues and makes us say our
prayers backwards. Got to bed early and was
lulled to sleep by the music of bursting bombs
and heavy rifle fire in the neighbourhood of
" Quinn's " and " Courtney's." Our camp
is at the foot of the cliff to the left of " Dead
Man's Ridge," only thirty yards behind the
firing line ; all day and night we hear the song
of bullets and the scream of shells passing over-
head. I expect we'll miss them when we retire
into private life again if any of us are left to
do the retiring stunt. One of our cooks shot
dead while bending over his pots. Oh, it's
a sweet spot, is Anzac !
Weather growing much warmer. Seems to
agree with the flies. Wonder what part in the
scheme of Nature flies play?
May 17. Very heavy rifle and machine-gun
fire in early part of night, followed by bombs
galore. It seems that a company of Australian
infantry stormed an enemy trench, but had
to retire from it later on with considerable
176 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
loss. Queer that such small bodies should be
sent to attack a strong position. Did a five-
hour spell of sapping at " Pope's." Snipers
active, but were well protected, suffering no
loss. Fairly quiet day. Some artillery fire.
One of our naval guns got on to the enemy's
trenches and blew them about in fine style
with lyddite. Rumoured that Italy has come
in on Allies' side. Also that Bulgaria has
taken off the gloves, but on which side no
one seems to know. My own opinion is that
she'll side with Germany, simply because she
seems so friendly towards the Allies. I wouldn't
trust one of those Balkan Staters farther than
I could see him. Rumania will probably join
the Allies when it suits her. As for Greece,
from what I saw of the Greeks in Lemnos
and elsewhere, I reckon she doesn't count in
the deal. Her men were born with deflated
rubber tyres instead of backbones. Rumours
fill the air. Stuck up the Q.M.S. for a shirt.
He has promised to do his best. Hope I'll get
SITTING TIGHT 177
one, as at present I don't possess such an article,
and in this weather a knitted woollen cardigan
impregnated with sweat and powdered clay
isn't the most comfortable garment to wear
next one's skin. Ordered to go on again on
the old four-hour shifts at " Pope's," bossing
up infantry at trench-digging. Would rather
do a bigger spell right off the reel, as we get
more sleep.
May 1 8. Enemy throwing 10" or 12" shells
(howitzers) right into the " Gully " among
the thickly clustered dug-outs. The explo-
sions are fine to watch (so long as your own
home doesn't suffer), dirt, stones, etc. being
hurled 200 yards around. I don't think they
killed very many, but the Light Horse chaps
are fair mad at the way their camp has been
knocked about. One fellow whose dug-out
had utterly vanished, its place being now
occupied by a crater like a young volcano,
wanted to know what the Government was
thinking about.
N
1 78 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
Navy officers inspected our lines yesterday.
Heard that they weren't much impressed with
the work of our field batteries. This morning
the troops were withdrawn from some of
our trenches and the warships bombarded the
Turks just in advance of our firing line, blow-
ing trenches, sandbags, etc. up in fine style.
The enemy kept pretty quiet afterwards ;
expect they were cleaning up things. Heard
that the naval chaps are mounting 4*7" and
6" guns here ; also that the Royal Artillery
have arrived with two 12" howitzers. They
are badly needed, as we don't seem able to
silence the Turkish big guns.
Easy day on the whole. Still waiting for
my shirt. Rumoured that the enemy has
been strongly reinforced, and may try a big
assault at any time. Also, that 20,000 well-
armed Armenians have risen against the Turks.
Also, that Italy has certainly joined in not
confirmed. Also, that Greece wants certain
" guarantees " before coming in with the
SITTING TIGHT 179
Allies. Turkish losses since war started re-
ported as 60 per cent. Hard to credit. More
" Jack Johnsons " this afternoon. An enemy
big gun discovered to be using a tunnel ; when
about to fire she is run out on rails, being run
back into the tunnel the instant the shot is
discharged. One up for the Turks ! They
are as 'cute as a cageful of monkeys.
May 19. Enemy attacked in force last
night. The rifle and machine-gun fire was
something to write home about ! The Turks
came on in their usual close formation, and
were simply mown down. They just melted
away in places like a snowball in hell. Mostly
they failed to reach our trenches, being cut
down and beaten back by the terrific fire.
In some cases, however, they did actually get
into our front fire trenches, but were imme-
diately bayoneted to a man. In other places
they reached our parapets only to be pulled
by the legs into the trench by one man and
bayoneted by another. It was a queer, mixed-
i8o ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
up style of fighting, that suited our Australasian
troops right down to the ground. The attack
was repulsed all along the line, finally dying
away at about 2 a.m. Two hours later they
had another try to push us over the ridge,
advancing under cover of the heaviest artillery
fire we have so far experienced. Again they
attacked our whole line, finally concentrating
on our right flank. At one point a New
Zealand crowd left their trenches and charged
the advancing Turks with the bayonet. They
drove the enemy back in fine style, but suffered
considerably themselves. Otherwise, however,
the attack was repulsed with heavy loss to the
enemy, our own casualties I hear being slight.
I should think the Turks must be getting fed
up with these attempts to drive us into the
sea.
Heavy firing going on at all points as I write
rifles, Maxims, and artillery. The row is
something awful ! Enemy using shrapnel
chiefly, and sweeping the " Gully " right down
SITTING TIGHT 181
to the beach. Heard that the " Jack John-
sons " yesterday killed only about six men and
wounded a few more. It seems almost in-
credible considering the way they pumped
them into our camps. The soil here is mostly
clayey and fairly free from rock, and the big
shells, like our own lyddite, simply blow a
huge hole, or crater, in the ground ; and
although the effect is rather fearsome the
damage, unless close in, doesn't amount to
much. If they pitched in rocky country I
should say there would be a very different
yarn to spin. Heard that the Lizzie pitched
a big shell slap into the tunnel in which a
Turkish " Jack Johnson " was hiding and that
she hasn't given tongue since. Also that the
enemy tapped one of our field telephone wires
behind our lines, and gave the General Staff
twenty-four hours in which to clear us off
the Peninsula, failing which he would blow
us into the sea with big guns. Got my shirt
at last, and feel a new man. If I could only
1 82 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
raise a pair of trousers I'd be satisfied. I like
plenty of fresh air and ventilation but not
in my nether garments.
Later. A tremendous rifle and artillery fire
took place this evening, continuing for an hour
or so. Accounted for by New Zealand in-
fantry attempting to capture some Turkish
guns. They didn't go on with the venture,
however, as the guns were too well guarded.
Rather quiet evening afterwards. Been or-
dered to go on sapping at " Quinn's Post "
to-morrow at 7 a.m.
Still Later. Rather a funny thing happened
to-night. We were ordered to rig up port-
able entanglements in front of our fire trenches
at " Quinn's." Now as the enemy's trench
and our own were separated by only a few
yards it meant a quick death (and a verdict of
" suicide while temporarily insane ") to any
one attempting to even mount the parapet,
much less starting in to a job of the kind out
in the open. You should have seen the chaps'
SITTING TIGHT 183
faces (and heard their prayers) when the order
came along. Of course they all realised it was
a mistake, the order being cancelled later on.
The entanglements were there, however, so
our officer thought it would be a bright idea
to shove them out in front by means of long
spars. After a lot of trouble we managed this,
and they looked real good standing heads and
tails along the front of our trenches. But
when the Turks threw out light grapnels
attached to ropes and dragged the things back
to do duty for ihem^ they didn't look half so
good. And the infantry laughed some. We
went to bed.
May 20. Quiet morning. No enemy ar-
tillery fire and only a little of our own. Later
some shelling by both sides. Worked at erect-
ing overhead cover on the support trenches at
" Quinn's " originally the fire trenches, the
outcome of the line of holes dug after the
landing. Funny kind of job : every time you
showed a hand above the parapet the Turks
1 84 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
had a shot at it. From 6.30 till about 7.30
all firing ceased on both sides. It was the
first time we had experienced absolute quiet
since our arrival here, and the sensation was a
strange one. It was still stranger to hear the
song of the lark ; I reckon the birds sized it up
as the end of the Great War, for they seemed
to all slip out of their dug-outs at once.
Heard it was a truce to allow the Turks to
bring in their wounded. When the firing
began again it was something to listen to !
Big guns and little guns, they all seemed to be
working overtime. They kept it up most of
the night, too.
May 21. On overhead cover same as yester-
day. Fairly quiet all round. More rumours !
Another truce talked of. Heard that quite a
lot of prisoners surrendered to-day. Orders
sent round that everything possible was to be
done to encourage enemy to desert. Which
reminds me
A few nights ago three Turks were captured
SITTING TIGHT 185
by a patrol and brought into camp. They
said in broken English that they'd been trying
to surrender. They were taken down to
headquarters to be questioned, and later on
sent back to our camp, the O.C. receiving
orders to feed them up well, then give the
beggars a chance to escape. The idea was
that they would return to their own lines,
tell their chums of the fine time they'd had in
our camp, and thus cause a lot of deserting
from the enemy. Nothing of this was to be
said to them, of course.
Well, we took our prisoners down to the
cook's quarters and gave them the time of
their lives. They ate about a tin of jam each,
ditto of condensed milk, showed a marked
appreciation for the army biscuits, and (they
couldn't have been true believers or else they
were just as much in the dark as ourselves
regarding the contents) tackled the bully beef
with gusto, finishing up with Woodbine cigar-
ettes. They weren't game to sample the
1 86 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
rum, however, but it wasn't wasted. When
they were full up to the back teeth we asked
them if they knew where there was any fire-
wood to be got, as most of the big stuff had
been cut out of the " Gully." Yes, they did
know of some, but to get it they would have
to crawl up close to their own lines. Things
couldn't be better, we thought ; they were
told to clear out and get some. Away they
went, up a deep nullah that bisected our lines
and returned a couple of hours later loaded up
with brushwood like walking Christmas Trees !
At their own request we led them back to the
cookhouse, saw them started on a fresh supply
of jam and condensed milk, and gave the thing
up as a bad job. Catch them letting their
mates into the secret of all those good things !
Indeed, most of our prisoners were only too
pleased to remain with us once we'd caught
them. We set them to various jobs, and, to
do them justice, they worked away quite
cheerfully, never, so far as I know, attempting
SITTING TIGHT 187
to escape from a place where they were so
well fed and got free smokes. The Australians
installed one as camp barber, and the blue-
jackets from the fleet used to grin at the
spectacle of a big husky Turk going round his
enemy's throat with a keen-edged razor.
About this time most of us had grown full
beards. I don't know who originated the
style, but it got to be the fashion to trim our
beards to a point a la His Majesty. Then our
slouch hats underwent the trimming process,
the result being a far-fetched jockey's cap.
Then nearly every chap cut his slacks or breeches
off well above the knee, and a great many dis-
carded puttees. Others shore their shirt-sleeves
off shoulder high. Still others went without
their shirts altogether in the daytime, going
naked from the waist up. So you can guess
what the Anzac Army looked like ! No wonder
the Turks did a bolt when our ragtime mob of
toughs rushed them with the bayonet ! They
looked like a crowd of sundowners who had
1 88 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
struck an out-back trail and got badly bushed
in a dry season.
May 22. Went up to " Quinn's " at 7 a.m.
to go on with sticking up overhead cover.
Rather rainy morning. Mud and such mud !
everywhere. Work of art climbing hill owing
to feet caking inches deep with the sticky clay
soil. Just got started to work when taken off
to make loopholes in a new front fire trench
enemy's trench being only about fifteen yards
away. Trench badly exposed to cross-fire from
machine-guns well placed on rising ground.
All around were splashes of blood. Australian
officer informed us that a number of his men
had been shot while lying at the bottom of this
trench. Did what we could, but as fast as
we stuck the sandbags up they were cut to
pieces and blown down by Maxim fire. Bombed
out many times. Had many narrow shaves.
Forced to give it best and wait till dark, when
we'll have another try. All these dirty jobs
seem to fall to the engineers. Rain cleared
SITTING TIGHT 189
off in afternoon. Mail came in to-day. Got
four letters very satisfactory. " Jack John-
sons " at work again. Snipers also busy ;
bagged quite a lot of our chaps to-day. Our
snipers are beginning to thin them down,
however. Our trench mortars emptied bombs
finely into enemy's trenches lately. Fairly
quiet night, with rifle fire going oif in bursts
now and then.
May 23. Went on at " Quinn's " again,
loopholing and strengthening fire trenches.
Curious state of affairs here : we sapped out
towards enemy's lines some time ago and
met the Turks doing the same towards us.
Result : a communicating trench from our lines
into bis, which is guarded night and day at
either end by each party respectively, the
intervening distance being about ten yards !
Didn't dare to expose ourselves, as sharp-
shooters were sniping all the time from two
sides, a cross-fire at a range of about forty
yards. Got back to camp and found issue of
190 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
rum awaiting me, also ration of fresh beef.
Cooked it on a grill made of twisted fencing
wire and had an Ai blow-out. More letters
to-day. Wonder what the navy is doing at
the Dardanelles ? Rumours ; the air is full of
them. Here are three : (a) Turkey has de-
manded either .40,000,000 or 50,000,000
from Germany, otherwise she will join the
Allies ; (b) we are going to be relieved and sent
home to England on the 25th instant, to
refit ; (c) submarines are cruising about quite
close.
To-day the warships bombarded the enemy's
trenches just in front of our own, first giving
us warning to keep our heads well down.
Didn't need the warning, as shells simply
skimmed our parapets. One plumped into a
trench full of Australians. Didn't do much
damage luckily, but upset the harmony of a
nice little card-party playing poker. Result :
the loss of some money and several tempers.
Got a blanket served out to-day. Could have
SITTING TIGHT 191
done with it a long time ago. Still waiting
for trousers ; the pair I own now on their
last legs.
Talking of legs, I bumped into one to-day
sticking out into one of our support trenches.
You had to duck to pass it. Seems that our
chaps when building the cover found a dead
Turk badly in their way, and as they would
have had some difficulty in removing him they
decided to build him up in the roof ; his leg
slipped through, however, so they just let it
hang. Quiet night ; hardly any firing at any
part of the line.
May 24. Just finishing breakfast when rain
started. The worst of it is that even a slight
fall turns this country into a kind of clay bog,
owing to the top soil clogging on one's boots
and then slipping over the subsoil. It is like
climbing a greased egg to scale the hills
and our position here is on top of a high ridge
running round a deep gully. Coming down
one generally does a joy slide on one's hind-
192 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
quarters. Have been ordered to stand by,
pending a rumoured armistice supposed to
take place at 7.30 a.m. Heard that Italy has
come in on Allies' side : this time it seems to
be credited. Hope it is true.
Later. Armistice did take place, lasting till
4.30 p.m., for the purpose of burying the
dead or " planting stiffs," to give the occu-
pation its local name. It was about time
this was done. I never saw so many bodies
crowded into the same space before ; there
were literally thousands of them. And the
condition they were in ! I dare not describe
the sights I saw. We scraped out shallow
holes, edged the things gingerly in and covered
them up as quickly as possible. It paid to
smoke hard all the time. I picked up a German
officer's sword (broken off at the hilt), a
Turkish ditto, and dozens of other war curios.
I noticed a magnificent diamond ring on a
Turkish officer's finger, but he was in such a
state of putrefaction that I allowed him to
SITTING TIGHT 193
retain it. One cannot be too careful when
working with decomposed bodies ; if a cut
finger happens to get into contact with putrid
human flesh you'll know all about it. We
mixed together, the enemy " undertakers " and
our own. Some of the Turkish officers handed
us cigarettes and spoke in fluent English.
They were a fine, jolly-looking lot of fellows
dressed in swagger uniforms. The Germans,
however, stood at a distance and scowled.
Our fellows returned their scowls with interest.
They also favoured them with a salute (under-
stood of all men) in which the thumb and
fingers of one hand act in conjunction with
the nose. The Huns didn't seem to appreciate
the honour. A quiet night followed.
May 25. Working at same job as before
loopholing trenches and generally strengthen-
ing position at " Quinn's Post." It wouldn't
be difficult to get laid out at this game, for
there is an almost continuous cross-fire playing
a few inches above your head, and as fast as
i 9 4 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
you stick up sandbags the machine-guns cut
them into shreds.
Saw the Triumph torpedoed. She had been
acting the part of dry nurse to our crowd off
Anzac Cove, and it was like a death in the
family when she went to the bottom. I was
sitting in my dug-out at the time it happened,
eating the mid-day meal, and had a first-class
view of the whole thing at a distance of about
two and a half miles. From the height of our
camp above sea-level we could even see the
submarine, like a shadowy fish, below the
water. She was reported to have been struck
by two torpedoes ; I saw only one, however
or its wake, rather. The projectile seemed to
hit the warship right amidships, going through
her nets as if they were made of paper. A
tremendous cloud of dense brown smoke mixed
with steam sprang aJoft like a geyser, and the
big ship listed over at once in the direction
from which the torpedo had come. At the
same time she seemed to settle down in the
SITTING TIGHT 195
water with a jump. The submarine couldn't
have been more than 200 yards away when
she launched the torpedo, which appeared to
cut the water at a great bat. A destroyer was
cruising about close handy, and she at once
backed in against the battleship, the crew
jumping and tumbling on board like rats.
Meantime she (the destroyer) opened fire every
time the submarine shoved her periscope
above the surface. One shot was fired at a
distance of only about fifty yards. The sea
was soon alive with all kinds of small craft
hastening to the work of rescue. In ten
minutes the Triumph turned completely over,
showing her bottom for all the world like a
big whale, finally disappearing in about twenty
minutes from the time of the explosion. She
didn't dive just slowly subsided. Many of
the crew jumped overboard ; through glasses
we could see them struggling in the water.
Almost immediately a whole flotilla of torpedo
boats and destroyers seemed to spring from
o 2
196 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
nowhere, and started to hunt down the sub-
marine. As I write they are steaming round
and round in a big circle, an aeroplane hover-
ing overhead and evidently directing opera-
tions ; at the same time the enemy is pumping
shrapnel into the bay from long range for all
he is worth, evidently in the hope of bagging
those engaged in the work of rescue. I have
since seen it stated in the papers that the
enemy's artillery was directed against the
destroyers, and that the drowning men and
those assisting them had to take their chance.
Then why in the name of common sense did
he use shrapnel ? The contention is absurd.
The Turks on the whole were clean fighters,
but when the poor old Triumph went down
they put a dirty blot on their record. I hope
never to see another ship torpedoed ; it was
one of the saddest sights I ever witnessed.
Later. Reported that the submarine was
bagged after a long chase. Heavy rain this
afternoon, and the whole place a bog. Hot
SITTING TIGHT 197
sun afterwards which turned the bog into a
glue deposit. Things fairly quiet, as they have
been for the last two or three days. Enemy
doesn't seem to like our bombs thrown from
trench mortars. They are a Japanese inven-
tion, and when they pitch into the Turkish
trenches they fairly raise hell and human
remains ! Heard that over 400 were lost in
the Triumph : hope it isn't true. Finding
enemy was mining towards our trenches we
put in a counter mine. Enemy exploded
his and ours at the same time. JV-o-o-o-o-uf!
she went. So did the writer bringing up
waist deep in a heap of soft sticky clay, hard
jam tins, and discarded accoutrements at the
foot of the ridge. Felt a bit " rocky " after
being dug out. Left ear gone. Head queer.
Hope it will come all right again. Had
another issue of fresh beef this evening, the
second, I fancy, since we landed. Cooked it
on my own home-made grill and found it
kapai. More rain.
198 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
Still Later. Heard that losses on Triumph
were very slight : about twenty or thirty.
Rain cleared off and ground now drying fast.
Fairly quiet night, except for some bombing.
You get queer things in bombs sometimes,
especially Turkish bombs. For instance : I
was working in one of the advanced saps.
There was a good deal of bombing going on
a bit to my right. In the traverse next to
where I was sapping a captured Turkish
gramophone was being made to work overtime
in The Turkish Patrol, for the edification
of an Australian audience. Presently Bang !
It was a bomb, thrown slap into the concert
party. The music ceased. Followed the cus-
tomary volley of blasphemy in back-blocks
Australian. Then, to my surprise, a roar of
laughter echoed round the traverse. Natur-
ally I waltzed along to see what had happened
and found a very profane Australian seated
in the bottom of the trench nursing his
wounds. He looked for all the world as if
SITTING TIGHT 199
he had been scrapping with a whole colony
of porcupines, and was bleeding from a score
or two of wounds.
" It's needles from the bomb," laughed one
of his mates, in answer to my astonished look.
" The poor devil's that full up of gramophone
needles, if we only had a something record
we could play a something tune on him ! "
But we weren't a bit slow at faking up
bombs ourselves. I have known rusty nails,
bits of shells, flints, cartridge cases, fragments
of broken periscopes anything, in fact, that
came along shoved into a home-made jam-tin
bomb. Once some of the chaps heaved over a
7~lb. jam-can filled with ham and bacon bones.
You ought to have heard the jamboree in the
Turkish trench when the unclean animal's
mortal remains blew round their ears ! They
didn't half like being shot by pig. On another
occasion some Australians informed me that
the}' wanted " a hell of a knock-out bomb," as
they had located a Turkish listening post close
200 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
up to our front line trenches. I manufactured
one of the " hair-brush " variety, using two
15-02. slabs of guncotton, and packing round the
explosive about three pounds of assorted pro-
jectiles ; the whole thing I wrapped up in a
whole sandbag and wound it round and round
with barbed wire. When completed it looked
a pretty little toy about the size of a respectable
ham. I own I had some misgivings about
being able to throw it the required length.
However, the distance was only a matter of a
few yards, and I got it fair into the desired
spot. When she went off bang there wasn't
much of that listening post left, while as for
the Turks who manned it well, I guess they're
going still !
" Quinn's Post " was always a rotten shop
for bombs. At first the Turks had things
pretty much their own way in that line.
Time after time they cleared our front trenches
by bomb-throwing, and then rushed the posi-
tion ; and I can tell vou it called for some hard
SITTING TIGHT 201
hand-to-hand fighting on our part to get them
out again. But we always did it ; good
soldiers as they are they couldn't live in the
same township with our chaps when cold steel
was the order of the day. There isn't much
fun left in life once you've had eighteen inches
of rusty bayonet shoved through your gizzard.
The Turks don't fear death ; if killed in action
they believe they go straight to Paradise and
have a high old time with the girls. But you
can't blame a man if he wished to have a
little more practice on earth nor for being a
bit particular abom the manner in which he
started on the long tiail. I reckon that's how
it was with them. I don't blame them,
either ; it's a sloppy kind of death, the bayonet
one.
After a time we got top-dog in the bombing
line. Our system was a simple one : for every
bomb the enemy threw into us we gave him
at least two in return. He didn't like it a
little bit. At first we used to throw the bombs
202 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
back again as fast as they came in, the fuses
being timed a bit too long ; afterwards, how-
ever, that game didn't pay, quite a lot of poor
chaps getting laid out through the things
exploding in their hands. Dropping a sand-
bag or an overcoat on them took most of the
sting out of the beggars, and it wasn't long
till every third man's greatcoat looked as if
it nad been in a railway accident or a cyclone.
One night I shan't forget in a hurry. It
simply rained bombs. Man after man went
down. The trench was a shambles. On came
the Turks, carrying our fire trench with ease ;
there was really nothing to stop them. They
got right into our support trench. Then our
chaps got to work. We bombed them back.
They came again. Again we cleared them out.
The position was carried and re-carried four
separate times, eventually remaining in our
hands. Reader, I wish you had seen those
trenches when the picnic was finished. It took
us a long time cleaning them up. There were
SITTING TIGHT 203
all kinds of queer things sticking to the sides
and to the overhead cover. One of our chaps
put the thing in a nutshell. " I don't give a
something what the padre says," he observed,
" there'll be an all-fired mix-up when they go
aloft ! "
" Quinn's " was in truth the limit. I reckon
you could get killed there a dashed sight easier
than anywhere in the whole line. It was just
fair hell with all the doors open. It was the
place where V.C.'s were earned but not
given ! Come to think of it, it would have
taken a sackful to go round. Yes, that must
have been the reason.
CHAPTER X
THE ORDER OF THE PUSH
Several Months Later. I have just been
discharged from my second English hospital,
and am at present on " leave pending discharge
from the Service, ' Permanently Unfit.' ' I
feel pretty well that way, too. My soldiering
days are over : henceforth I am a man of
peace. Well, I've had a goodish innings and
can't complain, even in spite of the fact that
I'll never be quite the same man again. And,
after all, things might be a deal worse : I might
be one of those grotesque-looking bundles of
khaki and rat-picked bones now lying unburied
and forgotten in the scrub of Gaba Tepe, for
instance. And I'd go through it all again
aye, a hundred times sooner than have the
women call me " slacker " ! I say " women "
204
THE ORDER OF THE PUSH 205
advisedly : the " men " are all wearing khaki
now ; those " she-men " who aren't don't
count they are just white-livered, cold-footed,
rubber-spined swine ! That's straight Anzac.
I'd cheerfully forfeit a month's back pay to
watch one of the slacker brigade read these
lines, and to know that away down in the
little dried-up kernel he calls his heart there
still exists enough red blood to pump a flush
of shame into his white girl's cheeks. " Girl,"
did I say ? Then I ask the " gentler " sex to
forgive me, for well I know that nine out of
every ten women in the British Empire have
far more true pluck and sand in their little
fingers than the whole slacker brigade have in
their useless tender-footed bodies. What right
have these damned cowards to go to theatres,
dances, football matches, and concerts ; to lie
warm in bed at night and eat soft tucker by
day to live their soft, easy-going useless lives,
while I and the like of me have to go out and
live, fight aye, and die like beasts ? True,
206 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
we volunteered ; we just had to being men !
What right (I put it straight to any slacker
whose eye now rests on this page if he hasn't
already chucked this little volume into the fire)
what right have you, you little white-livered
cur, you slimy maggot what right have you
to wear the dress and ape the bearing of a
man ? What will you say to the men when
they return from doing their bit when they
ask why you didn't roll up and help them in
their need ? That you were a conscientious
objector ? That you didn't believe in shed-
ding human blood ? That you had to stay at
home and make money while they were
fighting and sweating that the old home might
not be polluted by the shadow of the German
beasts, the ravishers of poor little Belgium ?
Well, you can say what you like. But I know
what they will call you a name that no man
worth calling a man ever takes unchallenged
from his fellows what I call you right now :
COWARD !
THE ORDER OF THE PUSH 207
I was going to add : What will you say
to your children when they ask you what
you did in The Great War ? But surely no
woman will ever call you husband and bear
your children ! If such women are to be
found, and I only had the power, I'd
emasculate you all rather than see your
dirty breed perpetuated.
That's some more straight Australasian.
But to come back to the matter in hand, as
the public tub-thumpers say
I got in the way of some bullets. I didn't
want to, but they were flying round pretty
lively and I bagged a few one through the
arm, another through the shoulder (it's still
sticking somewhere down under the blade),
two pieces of explosive bullet in my right
hand (still there and letting me know it when
I write), plus an assortment of small splinters
distributed round about my figure-head. My
left ear is gone ; I don't sleep too well ; there
is a fitter's shop doing great work day and
208 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
night in my head, and when I walk out to
take the air things are apt to spin round some,
and I fancy the dear old ladies imagine I
suffer from chronic alcoholism. Altogether I
don't feel quiet as good as I did before I went
on tour with the Anzacs. Neither did the
medical board, so they're giving me the tin-
ware. Funny thing : my appetite is quite
good, and I look as strong as a horse. Hence
the aforesaid old ladies are always telling
how well I look, and hoping I am quite re-
covered from my wounds. At first this sort
of thing used to bore me ; now, however, it
only amuses me. It's a boncer gift is the
saving grace of humour, and keeps a fellow
from getting into the blues when he compares
the man he was once with the man he is now.
However, that's by the way.
I have been in six hospitals altogether. I
don't want any more, not being greedy. I
am fed up with hospitals, fed up with doctors,
fed up with nurses (" sisters " we called them),
THE ORDER OF THE PUSH 209
and, above all, fed up and surfeited with the
old blue suit ! Not that we weren't well
treated in hospital. I have nothing much to
complain of (although they did in some cases
treat us like kids) : I have much to praise.
The doctors were on the whole a decent crowd ;
the sisters were just angels ! I take my hat
off to them wishing them a long and jolly
life on this old planet and a featherbed in
Heaven when they hit the long trail. Kia Or a !
After being hit I was taken in a fleet sweeper
to Lemnos Island, about forty-five miles from
Anzac. I was in two hospitals there. From
Lemnos Island I went in a hospital ship to
Alexandria, and on by hospital train to Cairo.
I put in a spell there, and was then shipped
(by train !) to Port Said. From Port Said I
was consigned to England, where I brought up
in Cardiff. Finally I did a spell in a South
Coast hospital. Then they got sick of me.
The feeling was mutual. So I'm getting the
order of the push.
210 ON THE ANZAC TRAIL
Taking it all in all I've had a kind of a Cook's
Personally Conducted Tour. I've had good
times and bad times, the good fairly well
balancing the bad. On the whole it has been
a most interesting trip. It has also been to a
certain extent an exciting trip. I reckon it's
up to me to remember the good times and
forget the bad. And I wouldn't have missed
it, good or bad, for worlds.
For, dear reader (please don't think I'm
bragging), I'd rather be lying this moment in
an unknown grave in the Gallipoli Peninsula
than be branded for life as a God damned
slacker !
That isn't swearing. It's a pious expression.
And, take it either way, it's pardonable.
THE END
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED,
BRUNSWICK ST., STAMFORD ST., S.E., AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.
,
PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE
CARDS OR SLIPS FROM THIS POCKET
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY
D
568
A2
05
On the Anzac trail
TVNews
OpenLibrary